


What it Means to Have a Body

by PhilArgus



Category: Bonus Stage
Genre: Angst and Humor, Attempted Kidnapping, Everyone knows auto-mechanics tamper with the battery so that you have to go back to them in a week., F/M, One-Sided Attraction, Post-Canon, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-07 16:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 110,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10364304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilArgus/pseuds/PhilArgus
Summary: Years after the end of Bonus Stage, the gang is desperate for normalcy, hoping to forget their time spent in the simulation. Joel seems to have other plans, however, when he brings Rya back to life and leaves the rest of the group to pick up the pieces.





	1. Chapter One

The sudden weight on Phil’s chest jolted him from a dead sleep.

“What _now_?”

“It is time.”

“Joel. I don’t even want to glance at my phone to see what time it is, but I _know_ it’s unreasonable, and probably _not_ time for...whatever the hell you’re doing. Which I don’t care about. Let me make that clear now.”

“No. Phil. Listen. It is time.”

Phil finally found the strength to sit up in bed and attempt to push Joel off of him, but he wasn’t the least bit successful. In the moment, Joel seemed to have suddenly taken on an impossible weight, and as a result Phil struggled to even force a sigh out. The world was still pitch black and ambiguous shapes around him, but he still felt himself growing uneasy at the eyes that he knew were trying to stare straight into his soul. He shifted his gaze to the wall. “Okay then. Time for what?”

“Man, you give up so easily.” Joel reached over to Phil’s nightstand and flipped on the lamp. Phil winced and shielded his face with his arms, as his eyes hadn’t yet even adjusted to the complete darkness of his room. “Jeez, you look like hell,” Joel quipped, “you should really consider more sleep.”

Phil lowered his arms for a moment, if only to glare daggers at his friend.

“Anyway, get up. This is important. For real this time.” Joel finally relented, sliding off of his dazed friend and leaping to the floor in one swift movement. He stared impatiently at Phil, who still was not quite ready to give in to his shenanigans and miss out on this aforementioned sleep.

“This seems annoyingly familiar. This wouldn’t happen to be like all those _other_ times you insisted on dragging me out of bed for those _other_ things you said were ‘important, for real this time?’”

“I don’t remember that; you’re probably making it up. Although, it might explain why you’re surprisingly so coherent, rather than the stuttering mess you usually are at this time of night.”

Phil reached over and turned his lamp off as a reply. Joel wasted no time in tearing the blanket off dramatically. “I should have known that would not have worked,” Phil sighed, at last rolling out of bed. He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “Where’s Elly?”

“She’s already down at the lab, you nub. You sleep like a damn rock, not that rocks sleep. Rocks aren’t alive, Phil! _She —_ Elly, not the rock — still has just the right amount of enthusiasm for my projects, y’know, probably to make up for your apathetic ass,” Joel snapped, tapping his foot impatiently to illustrate just the lengths he would go to convey his irritation. “So hurry up!”

Phil obliged, murmuring under his breath the whole way through the house. Joel was already about ten steps ahead of him, and he traversed his friend’s house in such a way that would insinuate he always creeps around in the dark — such a thing would certainly not be out of the realm of possibility. Phil, of course, walked just as a person deprived of sleep would, and as can be expected stumbled over furniture and other assorted items that his roommate had left out in the way for him — probably for this explicit purpose.

Although years had passed since their webtoon had crashed and failed, leaving the group to flounder about in their “real lives” outside of their previously simulated reality, Joel still feverishly held onto his quirks, and buried himself frequently in his strange experimentations day after day, much to Phil’s exasperation. On the other hand, the rest of the group was left burying things of their own, such as the fragments of their horrible memories they were left with as a result.

Phil squinted at the eerie glow coming from what seemed to be the top of the stairs leading to the basement, which Joel had insisted on using for the laboratory in question.

“You know this is my house, right? You should probably follow, like, my rules, or something,” Phil muttered, although he knew it was pointless. He narrowly avoided a box placed near the top of the landing. Even though Joel had already begun his descent, Phil could feel him rolling his eyes at the vague threat.

“Oh, my _God,_ Phil, will you just cease your incessant whining for one moment?!”

“You know I can’t,” Phil sighed. The mild irritation lacing his voice betrayed his hands that gripped the railing for dear life so he did not tumble into uncertain death. “So… What is it?”

* * *

June was screaming shrilly before Joel could explain anything, and all he could do was stare at her helplessly until she stopped in order to say something more coherent.

“Joel, _what the hell_?!” she gasped, gesticulating wildly.

“It… Well I… I mean, it doesn’t make any sense,” Phil stuttered.

“Well, what do you _think_?” Joel tried, still beaming proudly in spite of the initial critical reception. Either he was hoping for a quick turnaround, or he didn’t care either way; somehow, he was going to get a satisfying reaction.

The four of them — June, Joel, Phil, and Elly — stood shoulder to shoulder in Joel’s laboratory, staring at a large table that ran the length of the room. On it, the body of their supposed-to-be-dead friend — if one could even call her that — Rya lay, strapped down, apparently in an induced coma. What came to mind as a result were various memories of her crude deactivations throughout their series, and how they never ended well for the rest of the cast. However, in this moment she looked untouched by the shenanigans of the simulation, as one could possibly ignore the unsightly scar on her chest that was only faintly visible underneath her tattered shirt. The other aspect that did not match up to the group’s collective memories were the sights and sounds of numerous life support systems she was hooked up to or had protruding from her body — such as the ventilator and feeding tube — although these details did evoke the amalgamation of thoughts of science fiction gone entirely wrong even in the laboratory of a scientist who despite — or maybe because of — his eccentric personality, seemed to be good at what he did.

Phil continued, although stammering in spite of himself. “I mean, just, _really?!_ How is it even possible? _How_ do you have access to that kind of technology? This surpasses _any_ sort of reasoning… It’s, it’s not like — Joel, I mean… I don’t even know how it was possible for Rya to become human in the first place!”

“ _Well,_ _first_ of all,” Joel began, indignant, “she _shouldn’t_ have; at least, it wasn’t apart of my plan in the ‘ _first place_.’ It was you assholes who ruined it while I was distracted! But that’s old news, and fire under a bridge or something.”

“Y… You mean water, I hope,” Phil said.

June shifted uncomfortably.

“No. Anyway, that’s not the point,” Joel said, becoming agitated at this seemingly extraneous topic. “You wouldn’t even understand it, so I’m not gonna get into it and have you caught up in irrelevant crap. So just accept it and be proud of me, dammit! _That_ was the point!!”

Phil looked to Elly and June for help, but they only looked back at him helplessly. He tried to steel himself once more, although admittedly he was a few years out of practice of dealing with his roommate’s strange inventions and other things that — in his eyes, at least — simply made a mockery of modern science.

“Y’know what, Joel? _Screw_ you! I’m not giving in and just accepting whatever the hell you think this is. Because _disregarding_ the fact that it makes no logical sense whatsoever for Rya to have become human in a virtual world where _our own bodies_ were only virtual manifestations — I can file _that_ away in Things I Will Never Understand — but the fact that her _body_ , which was thoroughly stabbed, mind you, died and was supposedly left in the simulation… I mean, how do you explain that?! How did you get her body back and manage to keep it… y’know…”

He gestured weakly, and once again turned to Elly and June for any sort of backup; however, the two of them had become increasingly uncomfortable during the display and were looking everywhere but at the table as though Rya only existed when they could see her. Phil’s insistence on delivering a belligerent line of questioning was not anything new, but this time the group had no quips to shoot him down; in fact, this was a rare moment where all of them found themselves equally astounded by the events unfolding in front of them.

Joel sighed. He stepped in front of the table for a moment to gaze at his work, and then turned back to the group. “Phil, I didn’t bring you here for a lesson in how to do the science. You’re supposed to leave that to me. If you wanted to be on my level, you probably should’ve studied harder in high school and spent less time chasing after girls or whatever.” The amount of resentment in the look that both Phil and Elly shot at Joel would have embarrassed any other person, but Joel remained on task. “So yes. Listen. She’s alive. Nevermind how I found her body. The fact is, she’s here and breathing! Actual oxygen! Instead of, the, oh I dunno, whatever thing I made up in the simulation! Now be amazed!”  

There was a pause. Unfortunately for Joel, Elly found herself fixating on something else. “Joel, what did you mean when you said, ‘it wasn’t apart of the plan?’”

Joel exhaled sharply. “Well, _someone_ , I don’t know who, was poking their nose around where they shouldn’t have. Messing with my _things_ .” He shot a critical glance at them, although they couldn’t tell if it was aimed at anyone in particular. “Again, that’s beside the point. In fact, the point is like, years ahead of that one. It doesn’t matter that some asshole was in my lab, getting their nasty hands all up in my inventions and then putting them all over my other inventions, making them all sentient, or whatever. That’s not a thing right now. There were a lot of things that didn’t go my way toward the end, _as you all know._ ” He folded his arms and cast them all a suspicious, sidelong glance.

June couldn’t take it anymore. “But wh— What in the _hell_ were you thinking?” She whimpered a little, fumbling for words, but also not quite sure what she wanted to say. “I mean, what does this…? What does it mean?! It’s just wrong! I mean… Uh, of _course_ it’s like playing God, but it’s also, it’s — _worse_ , somehow, and that’s saying a _lot_ for you, Joel!”

“Alright, alright, will you relax?! June, I just…”

He looked to and gestured at the other two in the hopes that they might interject as they are often known to do, but Elly and Phil only exchanged knowing, irritated glances before looking back to June. She looked as though she might faint, all the color in her face having drained to match the pale, sterile hues of the room.

Joel turned away to stare at Rya again, as though he could hardly believe what he had done himself. He sighed, and tried again. “Well, June, I thought—”

“ _No_!” June exploded, pointing an accusatory finger at Joel that he could feel but not see, and then she pointed then back at the mess he had made of their friend on the table. “This isn’t helping! _This,_ ” she continued, signaling wildly, “is crossing a major line! What you did — the things that you _might_ have done for me — that’s on a completely different level!”

Joel whirled around, procuring a wrench from his pocket in order to shake it back at her for emphasis. “Maybe _you_ don’t understand! This isn’t _about_ any of that, and you’re clueless if you think it is! I _needed_ her!” He punctuated his exclamation by letting the wrench fall to the ground with an echoing clatter.

The group was already acutely aware of just how deeply their lives had become entangled in a webtoon that ran for less than three years; however, in this moment, it became even more apparent just how much Joel had been pulling the strings, even behind the scenes. This realization disturbed them into a deep, calculative silence, disturbed only by the white noise of Joel’s lab equipment.

The years following the cancellation of Bonus Stage had certainly taken its toll on everyone, but it was becoming apparent that it had hit Joel the hardest. On the surface, it would appear that Joel needed to do things just to see if he could do them; he didn’t have a point to prove to anyone but himself, and most of the time he was fine with people not understanding why he did the things he did. In most cases, he just wanted someone to be there so he wasn’t just talking to himself, although he didn’t always mind that either. But even without Rya in the picture, he had managed to do what was thought to be impossible, regardless of whether or not they should exist in the first place… And yet, his beloved project and webtoon had still failed and driven everyone to an intense, prolonged bitterness. However, it was becoming evident that this bitterness only quietly festered and hidden away up until this point. And, in a way, with bringing Rya back to life, it was as though Joel was reawakening his friends as well, if only through stirring up dark, repressed feelings that had been left unresolved in the wake of their cartoon’s sudden, traumatic ending that none of them fully understood even now.

After another moment of the deafening silence that had engulfed the contemplative group as they stared at the comatose ex-robot, Phil cleared his throat. “I just have one other question, Joel,” he said, his voice just barely audible, his gaze shifting to the floor. “ _Why_?”

Though it was shocking, no one found themselves surprised by Joel almost immediately bursting into laughter. He looked at the three of them, disgust burning in their very eyes, then back to Rya, who he knew would be looking at him in the same way if she were currently awake. He bent to pick up the wrench he dropped and delicately placed it on the table.

“That’s a stupid question, even for you, Phil.” Joel turned his back to them. “Get out.”

* * *

When Rya opened her eyes after what seemed like a lifetime, she had awakened into a world she had never seen before, and she inhabited a body she didn’t fully recognize. She almost wasn’t sure if she was truly experiencing consciousness the way she was supposed to; after all, her memory spanned less than two years, and she currently struggled to assess the situation before her. Jumbled fragments of memories drifted through her mind briefly, but mostly she was fighting to figure out where she was, what was happening currently, and how that fit into the timeline of her life. For the most part, she was mildly annoyed that it seemed to have been a long time since her last reactivation, and that she was struggling to access the memories when they should’ve been at the forefront of her mind as though she were a hibernating computer.

“Yo. Hey. _C’mon_!”

Startled, Rya tried to turn her body toward the voice, but she found that all her limbs were strapped down, or at the very least, that she was immobilized, somehow. Joel stepped into her vision, and instinctually, immediate feelings of hatred bubbled up inside her, consuming everything else. She wasn’t even quite sure if she fully recognized him yet, but she knew he was nothing but trouble and pain for her. He was the reason she was alive in the first place. _Wait_. _Alive_. For some reason, this word didn’t sit right in her mind. There must have been some weird modifications made this time. Anything goes in Bonus Stage, after all. _Ah yes_ , _that thing._ Now she remembered why she was infuriated.

Joel took one good look at her, and then was beside himself with joy. “That’s _right_ , assholes!! You’re alive! And they all said I couldn’t. Or… Shouldn’t. One of those stupid words they tell you in public school to keep you subservient and all that.”

The word still sounded strange. Rya finally opened her mouth to speak, but coughed shallowly instead. Almost as quickly as it appeared, Joel’s excitement faltered, and his expression became unreadable, as though he were a child quickly tiring of a toy just moments after pulling it from its box. He ducked out of her line of sight and started working on something, somewhere else… Rya stared straight ahead, a sense of dread seizing her chest, although she could not recognize it as anything but… pain? Things were starting to shift in her mind, and she felt vaguely like she were being stabbed.

“I… Help? You asshole?” she finally managed, her voice sounding foreign. She wondered briefly whose voice it really was, and if the language she was speaking was the one she should be using.

Joel, startled at her sudden vocalizations, jumped back into her line of sight. “Oh, that’s right! The other stuff!” He began undoing the velcro restraints keeping her to the table, although she didn’t actually seem eager to move around just yet. “On the one hand, I’m glad you woke up after I took the feeding tube out, but then again, it might have been pretty funny. Which is another thing. You might be wondering, was it really medically necessary to restrain you? _No_. Of course not. It was fun though. There’s probably a couple more tests I should run, though. I would ask how you’re feeling right now, but that’s not super relevant.”

He kept talking, but Rya noticed that she had begun to tune him out fairly early on, which seemed familiar enough. She recognized immediately that he was doing that thing where he was just talking because she was there, and not because he cared whether or not she had anything other than a snappy retort to make in return. She slowly sat up, her limbs feeling impossibly heavy. She raised a hand to rub her eyes, then stared blankly at Joel, who was leaning against his desk and alternating between scribbling things on a tablet and inputting data into a computer.

Rya used this moment to take a brief inventory of the room, and her eyes fell on a plain wallet left on the desk beside Joel. For some reason, everything seemed off. This was Joel’s laboratory all right, but something was definitely wrong, here. She hesitated, but then she shifted to move her legs onto the floor. Despite the immense amount of effort it seemed to take her, she pushed forward and tried to stand. Predictably, everything ached, but Rya was reasonably unfamiliar with these sensations, even though she knew logically that could happen.

She walked over to the desk beside Joel — who hadn’t moved as though she had stopped existing out of sight, much like his friends earlier — and opened the wallet without thought, causing a photograph to fall from it onto the floor. At first, she ignored it to look at what else the wallet contained, and it did not take much digging to figure out that this was Phil’s wallet that Joel had taken, that is unless Joel liked carrying Phil’s license around… And gratuitous pictures of Elly, at which Rya rolled her eyes. She figured not much time could have passed if Phil was still creepily obsessed with her, unless he was really that desperate, still. That would be unsurprising to her also. There wasn’t any cash left inside. She sighed inwardly, the sudden sight of these faces jumpstarting her memories, as though she were picking things from out of a dream she had in between very deep sleep cycles — not that she had any sort of recollection of dreaming — after all, this wasn’t a Philip K. Dick novel or anything… That she knew of.

“So, I… can leave?” Rya said.

Joel was only half-listening, which she expected. “Yeah, you’re free, whatever. You don’t need to be in here anymore.”

“Bonus Stage is really derivative, I just want you to know that. Ass.”

Joel raised an eyebrow and turned to face her for a moment, but he said nothing and quickly returned back to what he was doing. It had been days since he revealed to his friends that he had revived Rya, but he had been spending the majority of the time since in his laboratory given the tense atmosphere still lingering in the household. He was hoping they would all warm up to the idea once they actually saw her conscious. Maybe it was just hard for most people to be excited about a vegetable — whatever _that_ entailed.

Rya suddenly thought to look down at her clothing — the same clothing she had always worn — but it was impossibly dirty. And were those _blood_ stains?

“How long have you kept me deactivated this time, jerk-ass?”

Joel rolled his eyes dramatically, but kept writing away. “What are you talking about, _deactivated_? What is this, some crappy flash cartoon?” Joel looked up for a second to wave her off dismissively.

“Wow. Hilarious joke. You’re an asshole, as usual, and I’m pissed off. That’s new.” Rya looked down to examine her hands a little further. “What the hell is this, dickface? What have you done to me this time? Whose blood is this? Phil’s, I hope.”

Not surprisingly, Joel groaned in response and said nothing more. She shrugged and looked down at the floor, her eyes finally focusing at the photograph at her feet. Curiously, she picked it up and stared at what appeared to be a photo of everyone, although where they were she could not exactly place, especially given her very limited selection of places she had visited or knew of. There were a couple elements of the photograph that jumped out to her from the start: Firstly, everyone seemed to be outside, and somewhere _nice._ Nothing quite like she had ever seen in Charismaville, and certainly not in space. Secondly, everyone was dressed even nicer, and not as though they had no understanding of a basic color wheel. She strained through her memory to see if there were any event that she was aware of that would be appropriate for these two rare things to come together. Her eyes fell on the background of the photo, where Joel was lying on the ground, apparently wasted and most certainly incapacitated. That much was undoubtedly the only believable aspect. However, Phil and Elly clinging to each other in the foreground, limbs tangled in a messy embrace, while June was apparently throwing rice above them was a little more jarring.

The photo was absurd in all of its different components, and she couldn’t exactly place why. She started combing through and piecing memories together in her head, and wondered (or maybe hoped) briefly if she had been there, although the more she mused, the more it seemed unlikely. The people she knew (thought she knew?) typically weren’t even that happy, right?

“And what the hell is this?” Rya demanded, scrutinizing the photograph for even more clues. “Elly doesn't even look mildly pissed or even suicidal. How out of character for her.” She paused, questioning her own memories once more. “Right?”

“Huh?” Joel stopped what he was doing and glanced over her shoulder briefly to see what she was going on about. “Oh, dude, Phil and Elly got married years ago, where the hell have _you_ been?”

Rya cast him a quizzical look. “Uh, deactivated.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You brought me back to life...?”

“Right.”

“So…”

“So,” Joel said, “What’s your question? Wait, I don’t care. I’m a little busy here. You’re welcome for your life that you never asked for and all that.” He waved her off again, and said no more.

Rya snarled, flicking the photo at Joel’s face and turning to leave the room to find something else to do, someone else to make fun of. Joel flailed and caught the photo before it made contact with one of his eyes.

“That poor woman,” she hissed. Joel took one last look at the photograph in his hands and scoffed, letting it fall out of his grasp and onto the floor.


	2. Chapter Two

June was absentmindedly thumbing through a magazine in the living room, legs propped up on the coffee table in front of her as though she were just casually enjoying a relaxing afternoon alone, but she was anxious. She knew Rya was supposed to wake up at any time, but _when_? She still had not made any sense of Joel’s experiment, and had shut herself away from the rest of the group to contemplate what had transpired. She wondered if everyone even remembered when Rya became human in the simulation — it was, after all, essentially her and Andrew’s fault. It was the two of them that had teamed up and selfishly messed with Joel’s inventions, and in a way, she felt responsible for Rya’s subsequent death even though the cloaked figure — Rya’s murderer — was still some mysterious character in everyone’s minds. That was yet another loose end left undone, and one she was particularly on edge about even though it seemed even more impossible now to solve. However, she also thought bringing Rya back to life was impossible, and yet…

As if on cue, Rya glided up the stairs and wandered into the living room as though she had always lived right here, in the real world. June dropped the magazine immediately and gawked for a moment, her heart instinctively pounding. She had to keep telling herself to forget that she was looking at what was essentially a reanimated corpse that should not exist.

“Rya!” June wobbled as she stood up, and she paused awkwardly as she tried to figure out whether she was going to go in for a hug or not. Was that appropriate? It’s not like they were ever even close. June also wondered if Rya remembered some of the last things they said to each other. Even still, June held out her hands woodenly.

“I see you’re still desperate for any sort of interaction,” Rya said drily, moving past her and sitting down on the couch beside her. Her voice still had a characteristic monotonic edge that made June uncomfortable.

“I… Wow,” June said, sitting back down, “Even after all these years, you’re still… You… I mean, of course you still are, why would you be anyone else?” She chuckled nervously, trying not to let Rya’s attitude get under her skin right away, but it was difficult.

“Oh, thanks for that, by the way. I actually have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve been deactivated, and it seems like a lot of things have changed around here, for the worse, undoubtedly.”

June narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Deactivated? You mean dead. Like, literally dead.” Rya stared at her, the wheels clearly turning in her head. “Uh. Rya, do you think you’re still in Bonus Stage or something?” June was not quite sure how long Rya had been awake, but she was starting to realize that she wrongfully assumed that everyone would have been brought up to speed. She glanced over at the landing on the off chance that maybe Joel was coming up after her.

“Wow, you sure put that together quickly, you whine machine,” Rya continued. “Where the hell else would I be? And how have we been talking this long without some sort of stupid thing happening that’s probably a rip off of some other thing? I mean, unless you include this conversation, which I’m sure is gonna be cut for time anyway. These plot holes are ridiculous and never-ending. Don’t you think it’s a little odd that you’re supposed to be directing and yet you never get any of the attention or credit? When have you ever gotten in a word in? Sad. Like you.”

June laughed and rolled her eyes, although her patience was wearing thin. “Uh, okay, where do I start with that? Let’s see… ‘Where the hell else’ would you be? Well, the real world, you dingus. I guess I should have seen this coming. But do you really not remember anything before you died, or are you just trying to be difficult?”

“Why do you keep saying I died? I’m not just pretending to be a robot for attention like you did!” Rya folded her arms, feeling smug knowing that she should have hit a nerve — a nerve that’s been struck numerous times before.

June simply exhaled and placed her head in her hands as a response. The past had quite literally come back to haunt her, and she did not feel adequately prepared for it in the least. Furthermore, she couldn’t believe that Joel had not at all mentioned to her anything about the years that passed after her death — or even that they had passed at all. On the other hand, she could believe it. But she didn’t want to believe that even now, after all this time…

“Has Joel said _anything_ to you, Rya? Anything at all? Isn’t he still down there?” she began, slowly, fighting to stay calm, though she felt as though she were trying to pry answers out of a taciturn, guilty child.

“Why would Joel say anything relevant about anything ever?” Rya pressed.

“You don’t need to be snappy,” June said. “Look. I’m only gonna say this once. You’re not in Bonus Stage, Rya. You weren’t just _deactivated_ for some stupid reason or another, you were made human and you _died._ That stupid cartoon doesn’t even exist anymore, and it hasn’t for years. The website is gone, the simulation inactive. _Got it?_ ” She paused to let this information sink in, but she wasn’t sure how someone like Rya would even handle this revelation. For all June knew, Rya already knew all of this and was just trying to mess with her — that was something else not entirely out of the realm of possibility. The thought of this possibly being the case made June furious just in anticipation.

“Well… Oh, maybe that explains the feeding tube,” Rya said, more to herself than anyone else. “Normally I just get drawn on or something. I mean, why the damn would I have needed to eat?”

“Yeah…” June said, slowly.

“Are you sure Joel wasn’t just doing more stupid modifications on me? Hackneyed ones, ideas that are blatantly stolen from video games? That annoying and predictable routine that makes Bonus Stage a condemnable failure unworthy of its numerous forums crawling with our impressionable, mindless fanbase?”

“Um. No, Rya.”

“Strange.” Rya took another cursory look around, but wasn’t convinced. In fact, she seemed suspicious. “So… Where are we now? Isn’t this Phil’s house? Where he lives?”

“Uh, well, yes,” June said, growing slightly embarrassed at the fact that she and her boyfriend still lived with Phil even after he had gotten married. This was not something she liked to advertise to people, but it was a fact nonetheless, and she was self-conscious in spite of herself. “That… That still exists, in the real world. Which is where we are. You know, Charismaville. _New Jersey?_ Which is… what I said already. Rya, seriously. You’re _real_.” She gently squeezed one of Rya’s arms for emphasis, ignoring the look of disgust Rya gave her at the unwanted touch. “This thing? That you have? Is… Well, I don’t get it, but it’s a real body. I assume.”

“You mean _this..._ flesh prison? Is that what this is?” Rya looked down at herself, and then at June. She glared, yanking her arm away and staring at it more carefully. “I knew something seemed wrong, but I just chalked it up to more Bonus Stage ‘weirdery.’ Get this, asswipe. My inner monologue isn’t even male, and it doesn’t even have a British accent! It just seems to be this voice that’s coming out of me right now. I don’t get it.”

“Uh, do you mean your _thoughts_?” June asked, incredulous. “Yeah, those… I don’t think those are different from your voice normally. But uh, thoughts aren’t all just… words, in case you didn’t know that. Wait, what the hell? Why do I have to tell you that? What do you even know about the real world, if anything?”

“Um. I… I don’t… know. I don’t know what I know or don’t know,” Rya said. Her mind seemed to be reeling, and she didn’t quite know what to do with it. She wasn’t a computer running at full capacity, she was just a confused human with a lot of baggage to unpack and nowhere to put it.

“ _Great_ ,” June sighed, moving to stand again, but stopping herself. Another thought crossed her mind, and she scowled, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. “Look, there’s something else I need to get off my chest: I’m sorry about before…”

“Sorry about what? Being useless?”

“Rya,” June said calmly, pressing forward despite the thoughts yelling at her to slap Rya across the face. “I know you don’t really seem to remember. But… The whole… Turning you into human thing… I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just the situation — I dunno, uh, taking advantage of y— uh… I don’t know what else to say.”

Rya paused. Something shifted in her mind. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I…”

They both jumped at the sound of keys turning in the front door. When Phil opened the door and crossed the threshold, June was cursing herself for allowing her heart to race as quickly as it did.

“Oh, my God! Rya!” Phil exclaimed, dropping his set of keys on the floor immediately.

“Oh God, it’s you,” Rya snarled.

“Oh, my God, it’s Rya,” Phil repeated, although deadpan this time. He bent to pick his keys off the floor and shut the door with an irritated sigh. He stopped himself, having the same dilemma as June did — not knowing whether or not he should move to embrace this strange reanimated robot corpse.

“Yeah, it’s been fun,” June said, leaning over to pick up her magazine again, though she knew she had no intentions of actually reading the vapid garbage inside. “I think it’s your turn.” She held the magazine up to her face as her own way of hiding, though she wasn’t quite agitated enough to leave the scene just yet.

Boldly, Rya sprung up and marched over to Phil, grabbing at his hands and turning them over in her palms. He wasn’t quite embarrassed enough yet to pull away even as she remembered which hand the wedding rings are supposed to go on and held the appropriate hand up in front of her face.

“Hello to you too, Rya. Yes, that is my hand,” he sighed. “My fingernails are looking exceptionally clean today.”

“Explain the meaning of this,” she said, pointing at the wedding band. “How did you trick Elly into marrying you, you desperate loser?”

June suppressed a laugh, and Phil shot an icy glare in her direction before yanking his hand away from Rya. “Very funny. I— I see you’re feeling… Normal.” He grimaced.

“Normal by Bonus Stage standards, yes.”

“No, that’s not a… thing,” he sighed.

“Where were you?” Rya demanded. “And where are you keeping Elly hostage? She was one of the only tolerable people in that hellhole, you know.”

June could no longer withhold her snickering, and Phil began to massage his temples in preparation of the inevitable oncoming migraine. “I was at work, Rya. You know, a job, a thing that adults have, sometimes,” he said. “Uh, _Elly_ , she was also working, but she’s at home, asleep right now, thank God, a-and— Y’know what? Let me just get a drink of water first. Can you wait a second? C-c-can you— can you just hold on?”

“Stalling for time, I see,” she said. “Pathetic. And yet very predictable. Have to go run and google some quick comebacks to save face. I’ll be waiting, Phil.”

“You’re back, all right,” Phil muttered as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Rya stared at him as he departed, then took the seat beside June once again with a sigh.

“You feeling okay?” June asked. “I’m sure… All of this… Must be hard to process.” She winced at her choice of words. “You know what I mean. And… you don’t have to try really hard to be something that you aren’t sure you are, you know.”

“I just don’t understand,” Rya said, suddenly quiet and sheepish. “I’m irritated but I’m also sad, I think. Or maybe just confused. Which, to be fair, pisses me off.”

“You definitely need some time. You didn’t ask for any of this,” June said. “I just _really_ wish Joel would’ve… Done something. I don’t know. If he _had_ to do this. If he just…” She looked over at Rya, who seemed lost in her own thoughts.

June waited. Meanwhile, Rya stared at her hands for a very long time, turning them over and inspecting every inch. “I’m… Human, huh?”

“Ha… Still not used to it, huh?” Phil said, as he re-entered the room with two glasses of water. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.” He handed one glass off to June and then placed the other in front of Rya on the coffee table. He then stepped back, for some reason not feeling as though he should stand super close to her as though he needed an advantage of space in case she decided to snap and go on a murderous rampage or two.

“Yeah, I… It’s weird.” She turned her palms up and studied them. They seemed the same to her, but she knew it wasn’t. She didn’t feel as though she belonged in her body, though she had an eerie awareness that it was hers and hers alone. She moved her right hand to use two fingers to check the pulse on her left hand. “It’s strange.”

“What, having a pulse?”

“No. Shut up, not that. I mean, sure. But what I meant was… I always kinda _did_ want to be human. Like you guys.”

Phil’s expression brightened a bit, as he was excited at the rare prospect of Rya actually opening up sincerely about anything to anyone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Is that stupid? I mean, mortality and all that.”

Phil and June exchanged horrified glances. “Um, sure, but you were also brought back to life. I haven’t even begun to think of the moral ramifications of such a feat,” Phil said.

“Or even if Joel can repeat it,” June said, her face becoming pale once more. It was becoming clear that there were a multitude of things that the group needed to consider, but at the same time, they felt helpless. They were already thrust into this situation, so who knew what was yet to come?

“I mean in general, asswipes,” Rya snarked. “For instance, you guys. But there’s other things, too.” Phil opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a hand to stop him — and then a crude middle finger. “Like an unstable identity, for instance. Since I knew you were going to ask. But also, emotions that are uncontrollable — although… I basically had those already thanks to…” She trailed off and lowered her hand. Her voice still didn’t seem right to her. She also found herself still forcing a monotone, as though she were afraid to modulate her voice to indicate any strong emotion — though she wondered if that were because she was afraid of opening up, or if she just really had no idea how to be a human. Phil and June watched her expectedly. She lifted her head again and looked at June.

“Uh, earlier, you…” Rya said, “you said something about turning me human? Regret of some kind? What was that about?”

June’s eyes widened comically. Luckily for her, Phil stepped in. “Uh, let’s maybe… Not, right now. Say, how long have you been awake, Rya?”

“Two hours, maybe? Do I even have the right concept of time anymore? And why?”

“Well… A-are you… hungry at all?”

She perked up a little, to her own surprise. “Hungry… Uh, oh, yeah. Is that what that is? I know what hunger is because I’m not an idiot, but I wasn’t sure if I was just in pain or not.” She poked her stomach curiously, knowing that she’s consumed food many times before, but not having any idea what it was like to actually need it for biological reasons.

“Well, hunger _can_ be painful, yeah,” Phil mused. “You should probably not wait until it is before you choose to eat something. I know before you just ate whenever and whatever you wanted just because, but I would advise against going ham… on… uh, I dunno, ham. Among other things. Anyway, let me take you out. I’m sure there’s a lot of other things you’d like to talk about? That would be, y’know, better than on an empty stomach? Or at least, a stomach filled with things other than bland nutrients.”

Rya raised an eyebrow. “Take me out, huh?”

“Don’t read too far into it.” Phil glanced at June. “You wanna come?” His expression darkened. “ _Don’t_ invite Joel.”

June laughed, getting up to leave. “Nah, I actually offered to make him dinner tonight. Thanks for the invite though. You’re sweet. Uh. I’ll see you guys later, I guess.” She gave the two a weak smile and swiftly disappeared down the stairs into Joel’s lab. Rya watched her leave, and then stared back up at Phil, who suddenly looked nervous now that it seemed as though they were going to be alone.

“Well, Rya, I guess I’ll see if Elly’s still asle—”

“ _Phil!!!_ ”

Phil spun around and was nearly knocked off his feet by Elly, who had taken a lesson from Rya in sitcom timing and had at last emerged from their bedroom and come to greet him. She leaned nearly all of her weight onto him as she habitually pulled him in for a kiss — when her eyes fell on the corpse sitting on the couch, and she ducked away, pushing Phil so hard he finally did stumble to the floor.

“ _Elly?!_ ” Phil screamed in a strange combination of anger and confusion.

“ _Rya?!_ ” Elly screamed simultaneously.

In spite of herself, Rya burst into laughter, something she was certain she had never done before.

* * *

“What are you doing now, jerk?”

Joel whirled around at his desk to face his girlfriend who leered at him from across his immaculate lab, almost dropping the numerous tools in his hands — although he was holding so many it seemed just as likely that he would have dropped them without the interruption. He quickly switched off a lamp from over his head to conceal the spreadsheets laid out on the table behind him, but June wasn’t at all interested in the work of a man that lived with her and still managed to continually ignore her phone calls. She did notice that his laboratory seemed much emptier now that Rya’s corpse wasn’t lying in it; however, she knew nothing could quite compare to the gaping void left by removing all of his virtual reality equipment meant for the simulation. She brushed these thoughts away quickly.

“Jeez, June. Maybe a bit more of a warning? Or just, you know. You could just… Not be here in general.”

“ _Joel_. You’ve been down here all day, and you _promised_ we’d at least have dinner together or something.” June sighed and twirled a loose strand of hair, hoping to come off as casual, but knowing that her desperateness would shine through anyway. She was transparent as always, and even if she could muster the strength to come off as cold and detached as Joel did, he would see right through her anyway. Even though she was still considerably disturbed by the whole raising-the-dead business, she found herself ridiculously lonely. She was used to Joel’s neglect on numerous levels, but she had hoped that his completion of his project would allow them to finally spend some time together after all of the nights she spent lying awake, knowing he was down there and not with her. The chances were bleak, but she hoped that being alone with him for a while would change things — though they never did.

“I don’t remember promising that. Or anything! You know I don’t make promises,” Joel said. “They only serve to bite you in the ass. Which is what is happening right now. The ass—biting. I’m not ready for any meal at this time. Maybe ask Phil. He likes to eat, sometimes. Maybe.”

Joel shrugged and started to spin in his chair to get back to what he was working on, but June grabbed the back of the chair with both hands so that she loomed over him. The look in her eyes would have — or should have — struck fear in any man that knew what was good for him, but Joel of course was oblivious to the implications behind her words. He met her fierce gaze with an apathetic (and even mildly annoyed) look, and stuck a hand out to firmly push her away as though he were simply a disgruntled cat not in the mood for cuddles.

“Ha. Phil’s going out. You _do_ know how long you’ve been down here, right?” she asked, leaning a good portion of her weight against his palm in bodily resistance while also strategically sinking more of his hand into her chest. “I don’t think you’ve seen the sun in like… days. That’s bad for you, I guess. I dunno. I’m sure you’ll get cancer either way, or something.”

“Not seeing the s— That’s _by choice_ , if you recall,” Joel said, glaring at her. “I’m busy. Or was, before you came in here.” He paused, and brought his hand up to his chin, suddenly in deep thought. “Did you say Phil was going out?”

“Wow, you listened to words I said. That’s amazing,” June deadpanned. “What else can you do? Bring a dead robot back to life?”

“Duh, June. Where have you been?” Joel asked, oblivious to her blatant sarcasm — or perhaps ignoring it. “But about this Phil thing. Where and why? And _why_ didn’t he take me?”

“Jeez, it’s like you’re dating _him_ or something,” June said, rolling her eyes. “Idiot. Why does it matter? He’s talking to Rya. You know, _her,_ since you seem to have forgotten now that you’ve moved on to the next thing, or whatever. I’m sure _he_ can set her straight, since _you_ didn’t find it necessary to catch her up on all the things that happened since she died, dumbass! That’s something I wanted to talk to you about! You’re just causing chaos and expecting us to clean up after your mess, like always!”

“ _What_?! Well, normally she doesn’t _need_ to be… brought up to speed. She usually wakes up with all her memories intact, as though she were never gone in the first place.” Joel pondered this for a moment. “She should be like, a hibernating computer, if you will. Like, a good computer, you know, with like, a good operating system or whatever. Cliche analogy that even you could understand. She should be fine. Give it some… Seconds.”

June waited about three seconds before responding. “Uh, what the hell are you talking about, first of all. Second of all, what were you expecting? She’s not a damn robot.” June knitted her brows. Something seemed backwards about this conversation. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure why she was explaining this to the person who had been solely responsible for bringing her back from the dead. “I mean, yeah? It’s going to be different. That’s what I would think, anyway. That’s what’s… going on. It’s not like… a light switch or a power button. It’s like waking up out of a really bad nightmare. And the nightmare is Bonus Stage. We all lived through that.”

Joel stood up suddenly, and June stumbled back in surprise. He cupped her chin gently — but firmly — with his hands and stared intensely into her eyes. “Listen, June. _You keep your mouth shut_. And don’t _patronize_ me. Rya’s emotional response isn’t even important to this whole… whatever. Let’s just call this _Ryagate_ or something. The fact is, she is alive, with her memories. I think. But it’s _not important_.”

“Then what _is_ important, Joel?” June said, exasperated. She wriggled out of his grasp and turned away. “You shouldn’t have messed with her feelings in the first place, but now she’s an actual human being, and you have to treat her that way!” June clapped a hand over her mouth, not sure exactly where that had come from. For a brief second, she wasn’t sure if she were more worried that Joel might call her out on possibly projecting, or if she actually was. Instead, he shook his head and sat back down.

“June. No. You still don’t get it. None of you do.” Joel’s voice was devoid of any agitation, but this only served to make June uneasy. “Rya Botkins — she’s my creation, okay. Full of cool goth-girl one-liners. You know the ones. Someone _killed_ my creation, and I brought her back. What happens _next?_ None of your damn business. What that means for _you guys?_ None of my concern.” Joel turned back toward his desk and sighed.

June felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she cleared her suddenly parched throat. Her voice dropped to a whisper, as though her voice had escaped with any scrap of hope she had of having a normal evening. “Dinner’s off, then?”

“It was never on. See ya.”


	3. Chapter Three

Phil and Rya were sitting across from each other at a dingy hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant that was almost entirely empty except for a small group (on what seemed to be a double date) in the corner. There was just one server running around, although to where nobody seemed to know, as he didn’t seem to be accomplishing anything other than occasionally dropping a plate here and there. The other staff that could be seen around, such as the hosts who were clearly checked out for the evening, were skulking about sloppily cleaning things, clearly trying to look busy in case upper management decided to take breaks from napping to check on them.

Rya, who for some reason was feverishly indulging her impossible, newfound thirst and had already downed three glasses of water, was just coming back from the bathroom again and looked annoyed about it. She pulled her chair out with one hand and combed her fingers through her hair with the other. As she sat down, Phil looked up from his lap and watched her expectedly.

“Phil, I don’t wanna know why you’ve been staring into your crotch every time I’ve come back.”

“I was texting my _wife_. With my _phone_.”

“Is that what you kids call it these days? Gross,” Rya said. “Absolutely abhorable. Why would she wanna talk to you? And remind me again why Elly didn’t want to come with us? She could have made this more bearable.”

Phil sighed and tucked the aforementioned phone into his pocket. “She stayed back with June, Rya. It was really thoughtful of her to stay with her after she came up from Joel’s lab in _tears_ , which you laughed at, by the way.”

“It was a knee-jerk reaction,” Rya said with a shrug. “So what? Elly and I didn’t even get a chance to catch up! She just sat there screaming my name in different pitches.”

“Well, to be fair, none of us were really prepared for you to wake up today. Or… any day for that matter. I’m just trying to check on things, is all,” Phil said.

“Oh, you should thank for her letting me wear some of her weird clothes, also,” Rya said, smoothing out her shirt, which happened to be a plain black T-shirt Elly had haphazardly dug out of her bottom drawer before rushing the two of them on their way.

Phil laughed nervously. “I… wasn’t about to let you go out in public in bloodstained clothing. Y’know… The ones you uh… died in.” He took an anxious look around and began to impatiently drum his fingers on the table. “I just keep hoping that they’ll bring the food once you get up, since they seem to have no problem endlessly refilling your water.” He said this as she finished downing her fourth glass. “I know the people here all hate their jobs or whatever, but jeez. Oh, and nice Scrabble word back there, by the way. _‘Abhorable._ ’ That’s cute.”

At that same moment, the disgruntled server popped in and placed a basket of breadsticks between them on the table with a muttered apology and quickly disappeared into the kitchen again. Rya shrugged again and started poking through them, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to indulge her other biological need quite yet, knowing just how poorly it was going for her bladder currently.

“That took you a second,” she said. “I can’t believe you remembered I liked Italian. That’s weird, Phil. Really weird.”

“What’s weird, Rya?” Phil said. He followed this with a dramatic eye roll. “Caring about someone? I know you’re just snarking me because that’s all you really know, but think hard for a second and remember that you don’t _have_ to. You weren’t _always_ mean to me. E-even still, you’re no longer in a place where you have to act like a damn narcissistic sociopath in order to survive on the off chance that you’ll make people — five people, on the internet — laugh.”

“Are you finished?”

“Uh. I _guess._ ” Phil scowled. In the short lull of conversation, Phil raised his glass of water to drink.

“So who was the asshole who killed me for real this time?”

Phil’s hands shook, causing him to spill a bit of water onto his lap, but he was already committed to finishing the simple act of drinking. He took those few seconds to mull an answer over in his mind, but he wasn’t sure if there were a good one.

“Uh…” He began, fumbling for a napkin to soak up the liquid. He checked to see if his phone had gotten wet, as well as to see if he had any messages from Elly as means of an escape. “That’s uh, that was… Straight to the point, wasn’t it?”

Rya lifted a fork absentmindedly and stared at her reflection in it. She still was not quite used to this vessel, and she wondered what it was exactly that bothered her about it. She glanced vaguely down at her arms, thinking of what lay underneath. It was blood now, wasn’t it? Not metal. Otherwise, she would not have died like that. She did bleed to death, after all, a memory that was somehow surfacing in her brain against all odds. After pondering this for a moment, and thinking also of ways she could look at her own blood, she looked up at Phil to see if he was going to continue, but he was sheepishly staring at his lap.

The only other group of people at the restaurant exploded into laughter, and the two hosts at the front jumped up as though they had all been tased. They straightened their hair and looked around, embarrassed.

“Phil, you spineless ass. Your dick has not yet escaped you like I’m sure it wants to. Just answer the simple question. You speak and have some sort of grasp on the English language, I think, sometimes. Albeit a very poor one.”

“Okay, _listen_ , Rya,” Phil said, lifting his head and attempting to take a stern edge to his voice, but altogether feeling ridiculous as though he were scolding a child, “I’m gonna need you to drop the act. You don’t need to ask a question and follow it up with a bunch of insults! That’s not gonna make me want to answer them.”

Rya rolled her eyes. “ _What act_? Aren’t you just dodging the question now, though?”

“No!” Phil was indignant now, trying desperately to hide how flustered he was. “That’s the thing! I don’t have an answer!” He paused, waiting to gauge her reaction, but her expression was unreadable; she was expecting more. “That’s _it_ , Rya. We… We don’t know who killed you. Okay?”

Phil was nervous that she was close to the edge of some sort of breakdown, but she didn’t seem particularly moved by this information. In fact, she just seemed mildly curious, as though she had no real emotional investment in the situation. “Even now?”

“No, _especially_ not now that it’s been years and we’ve all been trying to forget this mess,” he said. “It was that cloaked figure, don’t you remember? It probably wasn’t even really… Well, see that doesn’t make sense either… I mean just how could a simulated environment kill a real body that should not have even been able to exist inside of it, I—”

“You’re just getting hung up on the details now because you’re an idiot,” Rya said, forcing a theatrical yawn. She started fishing through the basket of breadsticks and extracted one. Before she wanted to eat it, however, she insisted on ripping it up into individual tiny, bite-sized pieces. Phil was looking at her strangely. “I’m not about to put anything phallic into my mouth, creep. Not with the way you keep looking at your crotch.”

“Uh, _no_ , I don’t care about that. _The other thing!_ It legitimately bothers me. _It doesn’t make any sense_!” Phil covered his face with his hands, embarrassed at his sudden increase in volume. He just hoped no one around was staring at him and noticing how much his arms and legs were trembling. Luckily for him, the one server on duty cared more about dropping more clean silverware and cursing to himself, while the group in the corner was engaged in taking gratuitous amounts of selfies for Snapchat.

“That stuff doesn’t matter, though,” Rya said. “It doesn’t matter _how._ I’m here, anyway. And I was just wondering, but I guess that makes sense that none of you would care to investigate such a thing, whether or not it was just another one of the stupid villains running around. Or Evil. Hey, yeah, was it Elly?” She smirked. “Or perhaps… Andrew?”

Phil lowered his hands, and Rya felt the urge to laugh at the blush that had spread across his face while it was covered. “ _No_ ,” he spat. “That’s not even close. And you’re being unfair. You don’t know what we did or did not do after you died! It was hard for everyone!”

“Was it? All of you were assholes! And so far it doesn’t seem like anything has changed at all.” Rya crossed her arms and looked to the floor. She was starting to feel her face grow hot herself, though she didn’t quite recognize the sensation.

“Rya, please…”

Phil had gone from scolding an unruly child to feeling as though he were dealing with a moody teenager; and, in a way, that was partially true. Although Rya seemed to have the appearance of someone in their early twenties much like the rest of the group, she lacked the emotional intelligence that comes with (or should come with, anyway) living life and experiencing it authentically. Instead, all she had at her disposal were less than two years worth of memories — ones that weren’t even clear to her at the moment — and various other lenses of the world that Joel had implanted in her from her very creation like an endless supply of insults and an innate understanding of pop culture, to name a few.

“Please, Rya,” he said again. “Can you just lay off for a while? We all have some adjusting to do. Isn’t there anything else you would wanna know? Something less heavy, maybe?”

“Okay, well, we’ll start with something simpler then,” Rya said. She wasn’t sure why her death should be considered ‘heavy’ still when it had apparently happened years ago, but she still took a moment to think of another question that had been bothering her as well. “Alright. When did Bonus Stage actually end?”

Phil started to feel himself shaking again, but he tried to hold it together. “Um. About… Four years ago now. I think it was, after uh… Episode 87, if I recall correctly.” He was only pretending to be unsure. He knew exactly when and where it ended.

Rya raised an eyebrow. “Only eighty-seven episodes? That seems like a stupid number. It’s not even an even number, much less a round one. Were we not supposed to get to one hundred, or did you guys just get lazy and quit? That seems pretty likely.”

“One hundred episodes — that’s what _Joel_ intended on, at least,” Phil retorted, turning to look around the restaurant for any sort of distraction from the subject. The group in the corner laughed loudly again at something, then got eerily quiet. They seemed to have received their food ages ago, but had yet to take a single bite. “Listen, that’s not super important.” He turned back in his seat, but tried to focus on a fixed point in the distance rather than look Rya in the eyes.

Rya studied the nervousness in his eyes as she slowly brought a breadstick piece to her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Sounds like things fell apart after the only good character was murdered in her prime. The only character that ever made any sort of sense.”

“Ha, you’re full of good things to say about it, aren’t you?”

“So are you, jackass,” she said, though she was actually starting to smile. Phil still looked incredibly nervous, and she wasn’t sure if she should try to diffuse this or to make it worse. “Well, uh… Are you happy about that?”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Happy about _what_?”

“Dumbass, about Bonus Stage ending.”

“Well… Would _you_ be?”

“Predictable deflection. I asked _you_ , Phil.”

Phil sighed deeply. “I… I’m, yes. I’m glad. I was glad, and it was nice to have gone all this time without even thinking about it until…” He winced as though he had been struck. “It’s not your fault, Rya.”

“Really? Because it sounds like you were about to blame me.” She smiled, but the amount of hurt in Phil’s eyes made her reconsider the direction of the conversation. “I _know_. I’m screwing with you, _obviously_. I just wish I knew why Joel even bothered. To bring me back, after all of this time. I mean, he never actually cared about me, anyway.”

Phil opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing. He wanted more than anything to contradict her, and to tell her that she was wrong, but he had absolutely no proof of that. He still had no idea why Joel did what he did. Even if Joel had cared for her, and wanted to bring Rya back to life because he loved her and wanted her to be able to experience life the way she wanted to, who was Phil to tell her that she was wrong and that Joel never meant to make her feel as though he never cared? The fact was he had hurt her, endlessly fiddled with her feelings, and made her constantly at war with herself seemingly for his own benefit and amusement. This was something that Phil was acutely aware of, even in Bonus Stage — that even though she had been a robot, it did not mean that she didn’t have feelings and sentience of her own. It especially did not mean she was not damaged by the years of constant abuse, regardless of how she acted in response to it.

Phil had his own mixed feelings about the situation, but he found himself unable to even process anything out loud. He was rendered effectively speechless for the moment. Rya just sat awkwardly, putting more bread in her mouth and tasting nothing. The restaurant was silent, as even the group in the corner had taken to their phones, more likely than not rushing to respond to comments on all the photos of their food. Phil lazily lifted his phone up to see if he had messages of his own to respond to, but everyone seemed to be out of things to say for the moment.

Finally, he found it in himself to speak. “Rya. That’s another thing.” His expression had darkened — and Rya could at last believe that so much time had passed between Bonus Stage and now, just for the sheer amount of fatigue, guilt, fear, and hopelessness that manifested itself in his very eyes. “We don’t know. Bonus Stage’s ending — It… it was my fault, Rya. But I don’t know if Joel and I should technically be alive.”

She straightened up in her seat. _Now_ things were getting interesting. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Gosh. I can’t believe I’m even telling you this,” he said, at last forcing himself to look her in the eyes, “but I think it’s important if we want to actually try and move on… And to even begin to be friends.

“None of us wanted to be in Bonus Stage at that point anymore, Rya. You wanted to escape, right? Well so did we. Things were falling apart at the seams, and Joel was desperately trying to keep it together, even though people seemed to be leaving left and right. Joel said someone had gotten into his lab and stolen the inventions that made you human — this was something we didn’t find out until later. We don’t entirely know what happened there, that’s when things get a bit fuzzy. We saw that you were human at the moment of your death, but didn’t come to find out until after that it was not an accident. We just didn’t know who had done it. And, after being in the simulation for so long, we all kind of lost our grips on reality. In varying levels. I knew there was a way out, to stop everything, so I also stole one of Joel’s inventions and went back in time to stop the series from ever taking off. The problem is though, I time travelled to the first episode without realizing that Joel hadn’t yet created the device that allowed us all to respawn continually after death.

“I went back and killed myself, Rya. And then Joel killed himself too. So for all intents and purposes, we shouldn’t _be here_. But we’re still here. We woke up in the real world, all of us, even though our bodies would have… Our real bodies should not have been able to take the shock of dying like that. The neurological responses… I mean we all felt pain the way we should have in the real world, our minds were completely destroyed by this experience… But… Maybe the… I went back in time in the simulation, but maybe there’s a way that it just…  it couldn’t have affected the real world like that, and our bodies retained the… I don’t know. A—and I mean, Joel had backups and backups of everything, and maybe it’s really not possible to go back in a simulated environment and expect it to affect… I don’t know. It’s just, we woke up and Joel said it didn’t make it any sense. So none of it does, Rya. Shit, Rya. I just don’t know.”

Phil placed his head in his hands, surprised that he was suddenly out of breath and shaking. He had never processed this information before. Much like everything else, he repressed it and repressed it until he could pretend that Bonus Stage was nothing more than a silly, referential flash cartoon that was canceled prematurely due to a general lack of interest among the bored cast.

After yet another a moment of thoughtful silence, Rya cleared her throat, with purpose. “Is that what June meant?”

“June?” Phil had no idea where she had pulled this from, or what she was even responding to. “What does she have to do with—”

“Uh, earlier, dumbass. Were you not listening? I guess not, since you interrupted, which is typical. No, you listen, braindead asshole. June earlier kept saying she was sorry for turning me human. That must be it. I didn’t remember it then, but it’s coming back to me.”

“Wh… She— she said that?” Phil lifted his head.

“I didn’t stutter like you. Yes. She must have been the one to steal Joel’s invention.”

“I… I guess so, if she said that,” Phil mused. “But why would she…” He trailed off, realizing as the words were coming out that Rya definitely did not have the answer either.

She shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me, Phyllis. She was acting weird as hell, but I wrote it off as her being desperate for attention, since Joel, being the narcissistic dick he is, neglected the hell out of her that entire time. Most of the time we forgot she was even there, much less that Joel and her were together. I can’t even believe they still _are_ together, come to think of it. Pathetic.”

“Rya, that seems a little unfair.” Phil was only half-listening. He was currently wracking his brain, trying to remember things in the simulation, but everything was coming apart. What would June have to gain from turning Rya human?

“I’m just saying. June is a doormat and Joel seems to be more interested in women that push him around, like his ex—wife. Or, you know, your mom.” Rya reveled in the look of horror on Phil’s face. Rya leaned back in her chair, deep down being desperate for more answers, but not sure where to start other than through torturing her friend. “Ha, yeah, _your mother_. Didn’t Joel also date Jessica for a long time? Like, a really long time?”

Phil’s left eye twitched uncontrollably. “…He sure did.”

“Not that I care — and it’ll just be funny if you aren’t, but are you okay?”

Phil moved a hand to cover his eye. “Everything’s friggin’ _awesome_. So, service here is terrible. Not uncharacteristic for this restaurant.” He started talking quickly, and more to himself than to her. “Why did I take you here? Oh, gee, I dunno, just trying to do something nice, considering you were literally dead not even a few days ago and I just happened to remember you like Italian food and this is the only place nearby that has anything edible and you still insist on finding the most irritating ways to _get under my skin!_ ” He took a deep breath and placed his head in his hands again.

Rya got up again with a scowl.

Phil chuckled. “Congratulations. You have the world’s smallest bladder.”

“Or consider this, dickwipe: I’m trying to get away from you,” she said as she walked quickly to the bathroom. She was fighting back tears, and wasn’t quite sure why.

At that exact moment, the clumsy server was finally wandering over to place two full plates of pasta in front of Phil and where Rya would be sitting. Phil thanked him quietly, but sighed. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

* * *

“So what is he doing down there anyway, do you know?”

Elly and June were sitting across from each other at the dinner table over two untouched plates of spaghetti, and everything seemed so empty now. It was strange when the house was as quiet as it was, although it had started to become the norm since Joel had begun to hole himself away in the lab. Regardless, there was an uncomfortable tension in the air that seemed to be hanging over everyone as Rya continued to exist, in the flesh, without any proper explanation.

June sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time today. She twirled a strand of hair again, although this time it was out of nervousness more—so than a desperate attempt at flirting with an apathetic man. “I don’t know, Elly. I didn’t really look — not that I would have understood it anyway. I thought he was gonna kill me if I stayed in there any longer.”

“Hmm. I don’t get it. I thought Rya was _the_ Thing. The big project. But I haven’t even seen him upstairs since he came up to drag us all down there. And I still can’t figure out what the point was.”

June nodded weakly, but she was quiet for a moment as she finally started eating. She was accepting for yet another night that she was not going to be having a normal evening with someone she loved dearly, despite everything that happened. It wasn’t unusual for Joel to blow her off for other things, but it was quickly reaching Bonus Stage-levels of extreme to the point of making everyone uncomfortable and unsettled.

“I mean, if anything, he usually takes some sort of break,” Elly continued. She laughed a little to herself. “I can’t imagine what else you can do. I mean, how can you top raising the dead?”

June looked up. “You could’ve said the same thing about the simulation. The technology of virtual reality is only just now beginning to catch up with what Joel accomplished nearly a decade ago, now. So, it’s not a matter of topping things, or trying to outdo himself.” June stopped and almost seemed surprised at herself, at the words she was saying. Elly was wearing a similar expression of surprise, albeit one with cautious curiosity.

“I’m… not quite sure what you’re getting at,” Elly said, becoming uneasy. If anything, she felt mildly suspicious. In the past, she had always pegged June as being especially desperate and sometimes downright oblivious; in fact, she felt bad for her, most of the time. It was the reason why she volunteered to stay home with her rather than go out with her husband, who she had been trying to text up until June had finished dinner. She looked down at her phone now, seeing the notifications flashing at her in their silent scream, but she was too anxious to open them.

“I don’t…” June sighed. “Listen… I like to think that I understand Joel after all this time. Say what you want about our relationship. _No_ , it’s not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination. No, we didn’t follow convention and get married like you guys. But I still think I know what goes on in his head at least part of the time.” Elly resisted the strong urge to roll her eyes, the aforementioned pity making its way back into her thoughts. “This whole thing — bringing Rya back to life, whatever purpose that served — there definitely is something _else_ going on. I mean, you could see that just how strangely he’s acting. There’s definitely something he’s not telling us.”

“That’s what I’m saying. That much is _obvious_.” Elly felt her face growing immensely hot, knowing that June was irritating the hell out of her but she couldn’t place why. She had been curious about what Joel was doing, but had not asked so that the conversation could have taken this strange direction. “This is traumatizing on its own, so what are we supposed to do about it? Just sit and wait until he hits us with the next thing? Are we really helpless or powerless to this? I mean, _come on_.”

June looked devastated for a moment before she pulled herself together, managing to force an eerie semblance of a grin. “Isn’t that what we’ve always done before? Elly, we were in the simulation for _months_ before we even knew what was going on. He took us out of our lives and expected so much out of us, all the time. And for what? Joel’s own entertainment? Rya’s reawakening, his weird behavior now — This is merely an extension of it. We might be in the real world again, but? When does it stop? How could it end?” June stopped to catch her breath, leaning her elbows on the table and placing her head in her hands. This caused some of her hair to fall into her plate, and Elly couldn’t help but to lean over and brush it aside for her.

“Okay, June. Who let you buy and consume Crazy Juice? I don’t believe that,” Elly said. June glared at her through her hands. “You just sound like a crazed conspiracy theorist now, and quite frankly, you’re starting to piss me off a little with that.” Seeing June’s expression made Elly’s stomach twist into knots. Both of them could already see an abrupt end to this strange conversation. “If we want to process things like rational adults, we need to… Not… Do whatever you’re doing.”

June’s voice was laced with venom. “I’m sorry, but we’ve all been trying to deal with things in our own ways, Elly. Maybe you should stop being so bitter.”

“Maybe you should stop _projecting_.” Elly stood up from the table, hands shaking, and left without another word. She briefly fantasized about throwing the plate of food right at June’s face. She wondered if she had ever really left Bonus Stage herself.

* * *

In the overly perfumed bathroom, Rya was furiously washing her face close to the point of rawness. She needed to destroy the notion that any emotional tears had stained her face from the moment she stepped away, but she wasn’t sure how else to accomplish that other than tearing her face clean off. It didn’t seem entirely out of the question.

She was glad she was able to get into a change of clothes before going out, but she was realizing now that what she really needed was a long, hot shower. No, not hot. _Scalding._ Apparently that was supposed to help. She was surprised to find that she wasn’t even particularly dirty; it seemed as though Joel had been particular and meticulous in his care, though what that meant exactly Rya wasn’t sure if she dared to find out. After all, he had not bothered to keep any extra clothes for her other than the ones she had been killed in… She paused to grab a paper towel and scrub her face dry. She took another glance around the bathroom, which seemed to be of a higher quality than the entire restaurant itself, with its gleaming tiled floors and spotless mirrors. She could even faintly hear music playing from a speaker somewhere, which struck her as odd considering there wasn’t any music playing anywhere else.

She still didn’t seem to remember dying. She wasn’t sure if that were a good thing or not. She softly brought her fingers to her chest, tracing the area on her shirt which she knew concealed the scar. It wasn’t sore to the touch or anything, but she seemed to ache somewhere deep within regardless.

“Oh, what the hell is this?” She scowled at herself as tears began falling from her face once again. “I didn’t ask for this. This is like, actual crying, now. I thought I urinated all of this out. This should be… Stopping. Right now. Please.”

She probably would have continued scolding herself if not for the bathroom door swinging open behind her suddenly, and she involuntarily jumped. It was one of the girls from the only other group in the restaurant stumbling in and laughing loudly, to no one. Rya rushed to start washing her face again to conceal the evidence of tears, but for a moment the woman didn’t see her, seemingly engaged with her phone. Rya muttered under her breath, berating herself for allowing herself to fall apart so easily in this disgusting, public setting, no matter how clean the bathroom appeared at a glance.

“Hey…”

Rya didn’t turn around. She kept scrubbing away, feeling as though her feet were cemented to the floor. She knew, however, that the woman had stopped her awkward stumbling and was now standing behind her and staring directly into her back. Rya felt her skin crawl, remembering vaguely how much she hated all the random people she met in Bonus Stage. But this was _real life_. People weren’t weird and one dimensional anymore… Right?

“Don’t worry, girl!” The woman came up and slapped Rya on the back. Rya flinched and jumped away, not afraid to let this woman know she was not okay with this random affection from a stranger. The woman didn’t seem to notice, or ignored it, as people who regularly encroach on personal space tend to do. “Really! Don’t worry! You still have a chance!”

“A chance?” Rya couldn’t believe she was engaging with this woman. She finally got a good look at her and was unimpressed — some bulky girl twice her height with hair extensions and multiple layers of clothing that looked like some Disney special had its way with her and spit her out on the street. Rya’s stomach turned.

“Yeah! And like, no guy is worth crying over,” the woman continued. She leaned close to Rya, as though she were about to divulge some sage advice. “But get this: I think the fact he hasn’t left yet is a good sign.”

Rya rolled her eyes and forced a laugh. “Nononono, no. You don’t seem to understand. That guy out there?” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder, even though she was currently standing facing the bathroom door. “I _hate_ that guy. He’s… Uh, ugly. And he’s married, I guess. Somehow.”

“You’re dating a married guy? _Damn_ , girl. I mean, no judgment or anything! You do you.”

“Um… What?”

“ _Shit!_ I remember why I came in here.” Rya flinched again at the woman’s sudden outburst. Once again, the woman seemed oblivious. She reached over to slap Rya on the shoulder as though she needed the constant physical reassurance that she were still talking to a human being, but Rya managed to dance away from her hands with cat-like reflexes. “Girl, I have to _piss!!_ ” The woman laughed so loudly and horribly Rya thought her eardrums would burst.

Once the touchy-feely stranger basically fell into a stall behind her, Rya reached semi-blindly for more paper towels only to find that there were none left. She could’ve sworn the container had been full when they had entered the restaurant. Her face still uncomfortably damp, she made a mad dash for the exit, although she was still on edge about rejoining her “date.” She swung open the door and started rubbing her sleeves across her face to dry it quickly. When she looked up, she saw that Phil had anxiously been staring in her direction. She returned to the table, self-conscious and hyper-aware of all her movements.

“U-uh… How did it go?” Phil asked, though he had no idea why.

“Wh— The _bathroom_?” Rya stared at him, incredulous. A blush was starting to creep across her cheeks.

“Uh… Y… Yeah…” Phil slapped his forehead. “Uh, nevermind. Check it out, the food got here. It’s okay.”

“…You idiot.”

The two finally got to spend time eating rather than digging up the remains of the past and tormenting old, festering wounds. Both of them were happy or, at very least, content for a moment, at last able to enjoy some moments together in silence, something that never would have happened inside of the simulation — at least without a punchline of some sort, be it slapstick violence or otherwise. And, when the abrasive woman at last emerged out of the bathroom shouting and her table erupted into cheers as though they were intoxicated at a high school football game, Rya tried her hardest to ignore it in order to maintain this calm atmosphere. Phil was quick to notice the grimace that spread across her face, however.

“What’s wrong, Rya?”

She shook her head. “Just strange…” Phil stared at her, his interest piqued. He seemed to find himself hanging on every word she said, as though she alone had the answers to absolutely anything and everything. “People, I mean.”

“What, like… In general? What do you mean?”

“That girl over there, the loud one. Unkempt appearance. She kept trying to touch me with her greasy hands. Oh. And she thought that we’re dating.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, _touch_ you? I— And… _What_? Dating?! That’s…” He laughed, but he immediately regretted it before she even shot a glare in his direction.

“I know,” she said flatly. “I told her you were too ugly.”

“Aaand that’s exactly why we’re not dating,” Phil said. “Listen, those people over there are not what people are usually li— …Okay, kinda. I’m not gonna lie to you. Sometimes people are just like that: overbearing, grabby, and annoying. But that’s just on the surface, okay? I know what you’re used to, that kind of unpredictable yet unsurprising bedlam, a—and real life… isn’t like that. Do you know what I mean? I just want you to know that. If… If that’s what’s bothering you, right now, I mean.”

Rya shrugged and looked away. She poked at her pasta, musing. The uncoordinated waiter swung by their table in such an inelegant way that she thought it had to be some sort of gimmick, dropping the bill on their table and narrowly missing her plate of food. Of course, she was still thinking about the ways of the people in the simulation, and how the majority of them remained static and unchanging in their chaos. She thought vaguely about the man she had married and promptly destroyed the genitals of, too, knowing if he even existed anymore he must still be the same. She imagined this graceless waiter existing in this kind of limited universe, doomed perpetually to gracelessly drop things and fall, over and over and over for a cheap joke. If not that, then some other played out trope, completely aware of itself and its intentions to lampshade said tropes and yet still falling short of its intended purpose. Phil, completely unaware of these tangential thoughts, sighed and slid his debit card onto the table. He suddenly felt very useless. When the waiter came back to process the payment, Rya was surprised he didn’t spontaneously combust when he managed to walk in a straight line without incident.

“Eating was so boring. Let’s get the hell out of here,” Rya said.

Phil scoffed. “I—I mean, it’s a necessary biological function that you unfortunately have to deal with n—” Rya’s annoyed look stopped him in his tracks. “Uh…? Well, what? Did you wanna go home already?” Phil asked, afraid but knowing that the answer would almost certainly be no.

She grinned. “I have an idea! But you might be too stupid to wanna do it.”

“Uh… You look devious, I don’t like that. I’m afraid,” he said, already becoming somewhat frantic at the notion of losing control of the situation. “What the hell are you thinking? You’re not driving my car, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not even sure how that’s legal. Oh, that’s another thing, I mean y-your _body_ might be old enough, I mean, to drive, of course, wherever it came from, but do you even know just how problematic that is? I mean, th-there’s the whole issue of morality, and I mean even just me hanging out with you and letting you _do_ these things, and the age gaps and—”

“Phil, for the love of your mom. Please. Stop talking.” Rya looked as though she might go comatose from exasperation and boredom.

He squinted. “What _about_ my mom?” he asked flatly.

“This isn’t about your mom.”

“Thank God. But you’ve still lost me, where did that come from? Where is this even going? I don’t understand—”

“Phil, _please_.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “So help me God I will punch you in the face.” He raised a hand to cover his mouth as though to indicate that he would let her finish, though it was really more out of fear of imminent bodily injury. She rolled her eyes. “So, I was dead. Crazy dead. Do you know what happens to dead people?”

“Uh, I don’t like your question,” Phil said, averting his gaze. “Is this a rhetorical question, or…?”

“Look, dumbass. Listen to what I’m trying to say. If I were a normal human, I would’ve been buried in a cemetery, right?”

Phil crossed his arms. “Yeah. _Duh._ That’s pretty standard. But like I said before, I don’t know what happened to your body. Y’know, the one you’re using… now. Joel must have known immediately, but that’s something I’d rather not think about. And, well, I guess in the same vein, when you died in the simulation, we _did_ mark a grave for you there, even though you weren’t actually buried. Again, Joel refused to tell me or anyone where your body had _really_ gone, and at that point I think he just played dumb and let me ask all the stupid questions trying to figure things out. And… I still don’t know how any of that would have made any shred of sense, anyway. So it’s… I don’t see what you’re trying to say.”

Rya nodded. “Thanks for that needless tangent there, you baby. But that brings up another point. You’re saying I had a place in a cemetery, even though I guess not technically _real_ , whatever that means.”

“Uh, right,” Phil said, raising an eyebrow.

Rya found herself tugging on a strand of hair. She asked meekly, “Is it… Maybe… possible to go see it?”

Phil surprised himself with how quickly he got flustered all over again. “Th… What?! _Why_ ?! That’s… _No!_ That’s impossible. I-I don’t know what Joel did with all of his virtual reality equipment, but I can… I can _assure_ you, there’s no way in _hell_ that we’re going— and just why the hell would you even _want_ to g—” He stopped. A lightbulb went off in his head. “Wait a second, I just… Remembered something.” He mused for a moment, and Rya gazed at him with rising curiosity.

The waiter dropped by one last time to give Phil his card back, and muttered another insincere apology, though for what, Phil wasn’t sure. Rya watched this man disappear into the kitchen, thinking again of the characters in the simulation. She wondered what the man was like at home, and hoped that he was less careless there, for the sake of himself — or maybe he was even married, in which case she hoped for the safety of his family.

Phil stood up from the table. “Rya, when we got back to the real world, I… Did do something. To… recreate your grave.” He paused to gauge her interest, and her intrigued expression urged him on. “Well, it just seemed right at the time, I guess. I… Did you want to see, maybe?” The pitch of his voice had raised considerably, and he felt childish for even asking. Rya stood up as well, her face brightening, and Phil narrowed his eyes at her out of habitual suspicion. “Wait, was this your original idea all along? To just… Go to a cemetery? _Why_?”

“Yeah! You’re a bit slow on the uptake. I wanted to go to the cemetery so I could pick a place to bury your body, since I plan on outliving you and living a luxurious life of excess. Or killing you. Whatever it takes.” She shrugged, but a smirk was spreading across her face.

“How 2004 edgy goth of you,” Phil said flatly. “Well, I have nowhere else to be.” Out of habit, he glanced at his phone. Elly hadn’t responded to any of his texts, still. He hoped things were going okay back at home, but he certainly wasn’t ready to deal with any of it yet.

As the two turned to leave the dinghy restaurant behind them, Rya glanced over at the group in the corner one last time. She locked eyes with the woman from the bathroom, who had been unabashedly staring for who knows how long, the thought of which made Rya’s stomach turn. The woman smirked at her, then made some sort of gesture with her hands that Rya could not decipher. She looked back over to Phil, who had reached the door and was staring at her also, although his arms were folded in a display of mild impatience — body language even she could understand. She shook her head and joined him.

* * *

Elly sat on her bed, drumming fingers on her knees. She stared at the wall as her phone incessantly buzzed on her leg with all of the unread texts from Phil. She had wondered why he had not come home yet, but was not quite afraid enough to read the texts, confident enough that the explanations within them would easily decimate any shred of worry in her mind. She was still knee-deep in her own thoughts anyway, as June’s words still rang in her head, _When does it stop? How could it end?_ It had been so long since she had seen her life spiral out of control, feeling all but helpless to stop the course of events.

Toward the end of the series when Phil had disappeared, not only to try and prevent Bonus Stage from continuing, but from even existing in the first place, Elly and June were quick to band together to prevent this. They had not even known what sort of consequences could possibly take effect from Phil trying to dismantle this simulated environment simply by going in the past. The whole idea seemed nonsensical; after all, even though time seemed to be passing 1:1 as it did in the real world, it didn’t seem likely that Phil traveling back in time in the simulation would actually be traveling back in time in the real world. Regardless, they couldn’t take any chances. She remembered just how desperate  her and June had gone to the first episode, where it supposedly would have all began — without knowing Phil had beat them to it and had already killed himself. They thrust themselves into the situation, knowing nothing more than Joel was about to end his own life, presumably from Phil’s sabotage — and what? They knew they didn’t even succeed. They weren’t even sure if what was unfolding before them was real. All they got Joel to agree to was to preserve what had already happened, rather than ensure that it would happen.

And then… what? She couldn’t even remember waking up, anymore. She just remembered their attempts at continuing as normal, and if anything that made everything so much easier to stomach. Really, all she saw were bits and flashes of bits in her mind that she had written, scenes she was in, most of them nixed, most of them cut for time or because the things she did were just not that “important” to the series. She felt a bitterness that tasted of bile rise up in her throat. She had never let any of that go, her anger at them for constantly pushing her aside and making her feel lesser.

_When does it stop?_

_...How can you even know for sure that he’s still not the force behind just about everything we do…?_

Her phone vibrated again, desperately, with more pleas from her husband. She threw her phone at the wall.

* * *

Phil found himself at a loss for words when they arrived at the cemetery. It was deserted, just as it had always been as far as he could remember, and he was able to park right at the gate, which was really not so much of a gate as it was a warped chain-link fence covered in vines. The end of summer was nigh, as the air had a crisp, clean quality that invoked thoughts of falling leaves, and likewise, endings and their new beginnings. Despite the coolness in the air, however, the sun remained an oppressive and suffocating entity in the background, as though a reminder of the harsh remainder of the season still scrambling to make itself known.

Phil killed the engine with a sigh. He didn’t want to get up immediately, and was still hoping there was a possibility the two could just go home. “I still can’t believe you wanted to come hang out here. We have like, a movie theatre and stuff you know. A park, maybe? Go for a nice walk?”

“Huh. Is that what you kids call it these days?”

Phil cast Rya an incredulous glance of his own. He had a vague idea what she was hinting at but wasn’t willing to indulge that line of thought.

“You know…” She continued, moving to unbuckle her seatbelt and open the door. “Because I’ve been dead, or whatever.” She stepped out of the car and took a deep breath. She was starting to actually feel a bit energized. She didn’t want to give the mediocre food credit though; after all, she knew the contents of all the bread and pasta she had just consumed were not necessarily supposed to be the most helpful to her body at least in terms of pure energy.

“At least you’re joking around,” Phil muttered, mostly to himself. He still didn’t understand why he felt compelled to humor her and bring her here, when he knew he was only going to open up even more old wounds — although in this case, they were mostly his own. He wasn’t sure if he had had any time to heal at all. He briefly wished he had made more of an effort to pursue therapy. Maybe there was still time.

On her own mission, with or without him, Rya steeled herself. She hardly glanced at Phil at all as she marched up to the gate, so he ceased his hesitating and swiftly followed suit. She shook the gate a little, and it gave way without much effort. It swung open with a strained, high-pitched creaking, as though the very act was a painful one. During any other time Phil might have made a stupid pun about death and dying, but this day he cringed, feeling hyper-sensitive to the irritating sound. Rya was completely unbothered. On the other hand, she could hardly believe how deeply their feet sunk into the ground, the layers and layers of decaying leaves — signifying many years gone by without a soul to rake them — crunching underneath their feet.  Phil himself felt as though he were at any moment to disappear into them like quicksand in a bad action movie, and he felt suffocated momentarily. He paused a moment to look around and gauge his surroundings, but Rya kept walking ahead, even though she had no idea where she was going.

Her steady, determined resolve made Phil uneasy, but he knew already that there was no time to languish and muse, lest he be left in the dust. Once again, Rya was reminding him of a child, one who took to wandering and needed special attention in order not to lose amongst an endless crowd. However, he wasn’t quite sure in what situation a parent like him would be doing allowing the child to do whatever she pleased — in this case, drag him to a cemetery to find her fake grave. She continued to walk briskly and with purpose, continuing to act as though she had been here many times before. Phil squinted at the sun. He felt exposed.

“Hey, Rya, wait a second…”

When Rya spun around, Phil was shocked to see that she had the faintest notion of a smile on her face — it almost seemed like a smirk, and he felt an instinctual twinge of fear that it was a smile hiding ulterior (and probably violent) motives. However, it struck him as genuine and not at all malicious like it always seemed in the past, which seemed curiouser still. He remembered the time when she had murdered all his friends in the simulation, but made it a point to spare his life, and for what?

Rya tilted her head at Phil, who acted as though he were glued to the ground. He took a good look around. For a second, he felt momentarily drawn to a particular spot, a raised knoll near the center of the cemetery, though he wasn’t sure if it were really his memory directing him so much as it seeming like it would be a good place to start. Rya was still ahead of him, but he found himself somewhat leading her from behind as he started a diagonal path toward the center, where a cluster of more extortionate headstones and graves were marked. He stopped suddenly, fearing he wasn’t quite going anywhere at all. He felt disoriented.

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing, exactly,” Phil said softly.

Rya rolled her eyes dramatically. She scanned the ground. “Of course you don’t. I thought you might know where you were going, since you live here and all,” she said drily. “Right here. In this cemetery.”

“Okay, jeez, I get it. I dunno— I dunno why I thought…” His eyes also fell to the ground as he searched, desperately. “It’s gotta be around here somewhere. I just— I feel like I’m way off… Wait a second.” Phil stepped up to a particular marble headstone.

“Ohh, did you find it?” Excited, Rya crouched down and tried to follow Phil’s line of sight.

Phil shook his head as he brushed some growth away from marble to reveal its etching. “No. Hey, no no no, this is Kate’s grave, weird…”

“Wha? Kate? Is that an ex-girlfriend of yours or something?” Rya crawled forward to join him, the ground feeling especially soft underneath their feet.

“ _What_? Where did that come from? Why are you so hung up on…” Phil shook his head. “ _No_. She’s… She is… was, uh, Joel’s little sister. She died when we were young.”

Phil hadn’t thought about her in years. This was unsurprising, however, as Joel was never one to dig into the past for any length of time. Just the fact that Phil had zero awareness of his former wife Sasha until years after their divorce could attest to that fact alone.

“Uh. I didn’t know he had a sister.” Rya stood up again, her interest quickly waning.

“Yeah, uh, there’s a lot you don’t— _couldn’t_ have known about us, Rya,” Phil sighed, sensing her growing apathy. “Anyway, I don’t know why I came over here, I don’t think yours was over this way…”

“What? That’s it? That’s the whole damn story? Absolutely _riveting._ ” Rya started walking away, though Phil was still staring intently at the headstone.

“Don’t act like you care. There’s nothing to even talk about, Rya. She didn’t get brought back to life like _you_ ,” he spat. “Come on.” He stood up to see that Rya had already abandoned him. “ _Rya!_ ”

She spun around, throwing a hand out and brandishing a middle finger. She then motioned for him to hurry up, and he at last was able to catch up to her and match her pace as they walked along in thoughtful silence, leaves still snapping endlessly underfoot. Phil looked up and down again along the rows of plaques and tombstones, though it seemed harder and harder for him to make out any of them, as they too were covered in moss or long-dead bouquets that clung to their markers as the only reminder that someone out there had loved the receiver at some point in time. He was currently reeling in his own thoughts and embarrassing memories, trying desperately to recall where it was exactly they had picked for Rya to honor what little time with her they had.

When they purchased a marble plaque for Rya, it was done in such a reckless hurry, and Joel did not care at all about it. But Phil had been adamant. It had been weeks after Bonus Stage’s untimely end, but for some reason, Phil remembered himself pushing everyone to set this up for her. Even Elly hesitated, and even balked when Phil insisted they say a few words about her as a sort of pseudo eulogy, but no one really knew what to say, if there was anything to be said at all for someone who was barely even real. Joel was mostly peeved at the amount of effort he had to put in, and all the paperwork he had to fake, just for a cheap imitation of a funeral. The words seemed empty anyway, and everyone was hollowed out by the realization that they alone shared these horrible memories that were nothing more than a forgetful joke to the outside world. What was the point? All they had were each other, and they were just beginning to struggle with the layers of betrayal and manipulation that had driven them to a unique madness unknown to the rest of the world — even their other friends and family, who seemed so distant now, having always continued to exist without them, in the real world. In a way, Phil still felt childish and silly for even caring so much about someone that had never functioned or lived outside of a world of deadpan snark, existing only to be bitter and fueled on cynicism and hatred that might have even surpassed his own.

Even though she had a bit of trouble reading each name, Rya didn’t slow her pace among the endless rows, thinking that maybe she would know it when she saw it. Phil, on the other hand, cursed himself, knowing there was nothing at all significant about her plaque that would make it stand out from any of the others, especially for the fact that nobody had come to the cemetery since then, leaving it up to the elements like all of the others. He cursed himself more remembering vaguely the haunting dreams that had made him so anxious to clear his conscience of her and buy the damn thing. He couldn’t believe that he still could not remember where it actually was, or even what it said.

“Is this it?”

Rya’s words shocked Phil out of his introspection, and she had stopped so suddenly that he almost crashed into her.

“Oh, jeez, Rya—”

“I still can’t believe it.”

Rya squatted down and brushed some dead growth away from the plaque underneath her feet, though it was unmistakable — it was indeed her name.

“Yeah… That’s, uh, it. It just says ‘Rya’ on there because we kinda fought over it… I thought your last name was supposed to be, uh… Botkins, I think, but Joel wanted his last name since he made you and all. I don’t really know, I thought it was just weird and selfish, so it made me uncomfortable…” Phil chuckled nervously, because he wasn’t sure if Rya was listening or even cared anymore. As it was, she was still intensely staring down at the strangely marked plaque with uncertainty, as though it didn’t belong in the ground at all.

“That’s amazing. You guys actually cared to bury me. Well, symbolically,” she said. “I don’t need that other irrelevant crap explained to me again, y’know, it not being for real, or whatever.” She ran her fingers over it, trying to memorize the feeling of how the letters themselves felt etched into the marble. It really was that simple. Just her name, and underneath it, the date she died: October 9th, 2005. She looked up at Phil. “Uh, October 9th, huh?”

“I think so. That’s when the episode aired.”

Rya shot to her feet. “What the hell? _Episode?”_

Phil gave her a strange look. “I don't understand your question.”

Rya stared at him, helplessly. “ _What episode_?!”

“Uh. Yes. There was… an episode? And October 9th. That’s… when that episode aired. _Ryaconning._ ” Phil shrugged. “It pissed a lot of people off, if I do recall. Then again, so did everything else on the planet. _”_

 _“Woah, woah, woah._ What the literal dickass are you talking about, Phil? This was all apart of your goddamn show?”

“Okay, first of all, what would a ‘literal dickass’ entail? I-I’m sorry, but like, where are you getting all these from? And, uh, secondly, what the hell do you mean? What were you expecting? Of course it was, Rya!” Phil knew he was starting to raise his voice, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Of course it was apart of the _goddamn_ show!! _Everything was!!_ There wasn’t an escape! You should _know that more than anyone!_ ”

The look of horror on Rya’s face was striking. Phil had never seen her as desperate, and he had never felt as frantic in response. She stumbled over words for a second, and she had a moment of fear that she was close to a malfunction or a major breakdown. “But do you understand the words you’re saying, though? I was _actually crazy dead,_ according to you guys!! What kind of twisted hell is that, th-that you would play off my death as some sort of sick joke in your endless quest for shitty, meta humor? Like isn’t that actually severely kind of screwed up, or do I not really know _anything_ about you guys, or — or how life is supposed to be?!”

Once again, Phil found himself opening his mouth to speak, and having nothing to say; at least, none of the words he thought of seemed to want to come out. He hadn’t have thought of the situation that way before. Of _course_ Rya’s death was traumatic. Of course he had been bothered by it, even after Bonus Stage ended; that much was obvious, given his efforts to remember her when all anyone else wanted to do was forget or even just play it off like a joke. But right now, with her living and breathing before him — finally realizing just how hurt she was and maybe even betrayed by the way her death was handled — he had nothing to say in retort. No snappy comeback. No generic line of comfort. Nothing could help this. He stood staring at her with his mouth open, and she crossed her arms impatiently.

“ _Well_?!” Rya pressed. “There has to be something in that head of yours. Or is it _empty_?!”

Phil placed his head in his hands and tried to control his breathing, but he could only manage short, shallow gasps for air. He was starting to feel suffocated again, and Rya’s look of anguish was too much to bear.

“Phil, for the love of God,” Rya said, stepping over to yank Phil’s hands away from his face. “Can’t you just face the shitty things you’ve done for a second?”

Phil jerked his arms away from her. He felt self-righteous, indignant, but he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t have much of a defense prepared, in any case. “Rya… I just wanted… We just wanted to give you this place, here,” he began nervously, gesturing weakly to the ground. “I know that it’s… That it’s nothing. I know it’s stupid. And… When you died, I know we didn’t think of it that way, and yeah it was… It was the show and all, but it didn’t seem right… A-and… I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing, and maybe Joel knew more than I, but…” He massaged his temples, a dull throbbing starting to find its way into his awareness. Rya was staring at him, her expression unreadable. He was trying, but his words seemed to be going in one of her ears, and then disappearing before they could even manage to go out the other. Suddenly, anger flared up inside him, and he found himself screaming at her, seeing the aimless child, the emotionally inept teenager — and not the ex-robot who didn’t know what it was like to inhabit a real body, who didn’t know how to grasp the seemingly ubiquitous concept of a “soul” — no one else. “Well, for God’s sake, Rya, _don’t be so damn_ **_ungrateful!_ ** At least we didn’t _pretend you hadn’t even been there!!_ ”

Rya’s expression hardly seemed to change at all, even with his outburst. The only movement Phil could detect was a subtle raise of an eyebrow. He felt embarrassed as he stood there shaking, while she only seemed to be concerned for his sanity at this rate. She looked to the ground to study her plaque again, then back to Phil. She reached a hand out to squeeze his shoulder, and he flinched, adrenaline coursing through him. She laughed in spite of herself.

“Sorry. Yeah, I know,” she said. Phil tilted his head at her, and then looked suspiciously down at her hands, as though she might try to strike him, or even pull out a gun from somewhere. “I mean — I guess that’s what I wanted to even come here in the first place, to see it. And, what you’re saying — that’s… one way to look it. You damn assholes cared to give me a place, even if nothing else made sense about the whole thing. So… Thank you.”

“Oh… Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Phil said. He was a bit taken aback by how calm she seemed. He definitely had no way to predict her emotions at this point, and wondered how much of it was Joel’s fault. “I mean, now that I’m thinking about it, there’s a lot of things we didn’t exactly do for each other in there. You’re absolutely right about it being royally screwed up. I’m sure you know that already, though,” he said. He found himself becoming more and more embarrassed, but was trying in vain to hide it. “I… I was trying to avoid unearthing my feelings about all of that, but I guess that comes with the territory of uh, unearthing you, I guess. Whatever that’s supposed to mean…”

Rya smiled. To her surprise, she felt moved by the sincerity of Phil’s speech, rather than annoyed. She couldn’t remember another time when he had spoken so frankly to her about anything important, and she couldn’t help the swelling in her heart at the mere tone of his speech, even if it wasn’t the most cheerful subject in the world. She thought briefly of the woman in the bathroom at the restaurant.

“Really though…” He continued. “I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t rightfully apologize for anyone else, but I regret so much of that, and you didn’t deserve the shit you got. I won’t even make excuses for my behavior. Whatever it was, it wasn’t right. You did not deserve it. Period.”

They studied each other for what seemed like a long time. The sun had been making a steady descent during their macabre conversation, but it was only now that the sky was beginning to follow suit and darken with the threats of night.

Rya cleared her throat, with purpose. “You… seem like you were the only one that really cared, Phil,” Rya said, her gaze falling to the ground.

Phil shifted uncomfortably. “Ah, um… What do you mean by that, exactly?”

“Well, I mean… First of all, look around. You’re the one that’s here with me, right now, taking time to explain these things.”

“M-Maybe so. But, uh, let me remind you that it it was _Joel_ who was the one who brought you back to life though,” Phil said sheepishly, though he immediately wished he could take it back, as Rya looked at him with anger burning in her eyes once more.

“That doesn’t seem to mean jackshit to me now, does it?!” she snarled.

“O-okay, well, still…” Phil started carefully, trying to be cautious with his words. “Just because the others couldn’t be here immediately doesn’t mean anything. I mean, I really… I don’t know how you can say that. I mean, I know it might uh, seem that way, I guess. B-but uh, you have to remember that… you weren’t even supposed to… Oh, gosh. Uh, how do I even put this…?” The reality of the situation was still trying to settle in his mind to make one, coherent speech, but it seemed as though the storm had just begun, and was bent on wreaking havoc, raging onward.

Rya’s expression suddenly softened again, and Phil once again found himself in mild fear of her emotions, which seemed to oscillate wildly between a limited — but extreme — spectrum. “You don’t have to defend anyone, Phil. You said it yourself, it’s not really your place to apologize for them or anything. I mean, I know you’re right, I guess. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to say. In a sincere, real person kinda way.” She sighed, defeated. She lowered herself to the ground. “Maybe I don’t actually know anything.”

Phil anxiously chewed on his lower lip. “Hey, that’s not what I’m getting at, here. It’s not even… you— It’s not your fault.” He turned to Rya and placed a hand on one of her shoulders. “Look. I don’t at all condone what Joel did. I’m glad that you’re alive, right here, right now. But what Joel _did_ was monumentally screwed up. From the very start, your existence was screwed up. And th-that’s not your fault at all! But you have to realize that, at least. That you shouldn’t even have…” Once again, he winced as though he had been struck, and he really hoped that Rya would do something, anything, to stop him from talking anymore. He couldn’t help himself regardless, even as he found himself turning away. “Gosh. I feel like I’m an incompetent parent explaining to a child that they were an _accident_. But it’s somehow worse than that. You weren’t an _accident_ , per se, you were a… a… Just…”

Rya sprung up, circled her fingers around his collar and pulled Phil into her, kissing him forcefully on the mouth. He floundered for a moment before trying to pry her off, the strength in her grip making him wonder if she really still was a robot after all and, briefly, vivid images of getting his jaw painfully chewed off entered his memory from a very dark place. Still, he managed to unhook her fingers from his shirt and push her away from him, and he was acutely aware and embarrassed of the desperate gasp for air that slipped out of him when their lips came apart.

“Rya!! What th— I’m _married_ ,” he gasped, not actually entirely sure she would understand the gravity of the words. “I … _What_? Y-you still know that, don’t you?”

Rya looked hurt for a moment, but then her expression turned dark. “Yeah, to someone who never even liked you as far as I can remember! I mean, how does that happen?! You’ve always been such a creepy, patronizing jerk!”

Phil glared daggers into her. “What the _hell_ do you mean by that, Rya? You just _kissed_ me, unless you were trying to suck my soul out through my mouth or something! _Jesus Christ!_ When have you ever even _liked_ me or — or, at the very least, not wanted me _murdered_ violently?! A-and, _Elly?!_ A-at least Elly and I have _history._ Your role in my life _pales_ in comparison to that, don’t you see? You and I have nothing. What you _think_ you _remember_ ,” he hissed, the very words burning her ears, “is _nothing_.”

“ _Nothing?_ But… What about the… But why didn’t…” Rya seemed to be trying to piece memories together, but everything was becoming a blur in her mind. “I seem to remember something really important.”

Phil held up a hand to stop her. “Look, I know you’re confused. I don’t blame you for that at all… I… How do I put this in words you’ll understand? I don’t even know how to explain this.” Rya looked up into his eyes, but as he stammered away she simply gazed through him, lost in her own thoughts. “You don’t… Well, for one thing, you weren’t even… conscious, so to speak, for two whole years in the … Okay, and as a human, you had only moments before…”

“My purpose, Phil,” Rya said, with finality.

“Huh… What?”

“Wasn’t that my whole purpose?” Her voice got quiet, but she spoke steadily. “To…  be your girlfriend?”

Phil’s heart sank. “Rya… I…” His voice broke.

“And…” Rya continued, hopefully, “M-maybe those things… That I said even after Joel messed with my settings, maybe some of that was actually me. I’ve been kinda thinking about this… Maybe that’s who I really was supposed to be… Someone who just really _was_ hard to get?”

After a painful moment of silence, he turned away from her, searching desperately for an escape to this conversation. He stared down at the mass of weeds that had overtaken her plaque on the ground, and anger started to form somewhere inside him, though at what or whom, he wasn’t sure. Was it really all just Joel? Was it him continually messing with her feelings in the show, unaware of the real life consequences, and how now years later, he’s quite literally dug up the past to do it some more? Or was it something else entirely?

“That’s not how it… works. I’m… I’m sorry, Rya,” he said finally, though he wasn’t sure what the apology meant or what it was for in this instance, as he knew there were lots of things that came to mind. He wiped his mouth and adjusted his sweater, his mind still reeling in numerous directions, the fragments still not coming together at all. Whatever puzzle was still left unfinished could never be, as Joel had deliberately made off with some of the most important pieces, disposing of them.

Rya looked into Phil’s eyes with a deep fierceness and hatred, and his heart ached from the depth of its familiarity. “Just take me home, dickhead,” she said.


	4. Chapter Four

Everything seemed to have calmed down for a spell. When Phil and Rya returned home, it was pleasantly quiet. Though it wasn’t a peaceful quiet, it definitely beat the tension that had been palpable in Phil’s car the moment they left the cemetery. The two of them had not exchanged a word since then, giving them both an unreasonable amount of time to get lost in their own heads. Or maybe it was reasonable enough. Talking seemed to be getting them nowhere presently, as Phil had yet to understand Rya’s ever-changing spectrum of emotions. In fact, he was sure that she herself had no idea how to control them and was instead just riding them out as they came. Without Joel pulling the strings, Phil was certain that Rya was just as lost as everyone else was, as much as it frustrated him. He didn’t know what to do with this information.

As they stepped past the threshold, Rya looked around the house as though she had never seen the place before, and she turned to Phil, questions burning at the tip of her tongue. While she didn’t quite know where to start, her desperate expression seemed to jar Phil’s memory out of abstract thoughts that had nothing to do with each other, passing ships in the night that just so happened to accidentally collide into each other — and sink.

“Oh! I think I forgot to mention this earlier,” Phil began. He motioned for her to follow him as he headed, with purpose, toward the hallway. “We made up the guest bedroom for you, so you can actually have some privacy and all. I mean, since we have the room and all, we didn’t want you just sleeping on the couch.”

Rya’s throat felt impossibly dry. She was starting to get the urge to down a bunch of glasses of water all over again, or possibly _something else_ ; after all, she wasn’t quite unfamiliar with the effects of alcohol, even when she had been a robot. “A… I get a room?” She was tentatively optimistic at this prospect, although she wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, given that she couldn’t imagine what she could possibly need a room for other than to sleep. The thought occurred to her that she wasn’t sure what she would like to _do_ , if she even had things she liked to do, anything.

Phil laughed nervously, as he found himself unable to get a good read on her tone. “Um, yeah. Of course. It’s… Not much, I’m afraid… But… Uh…”

“Uh. Hey, guys.”

Phil and Rya spun around to see Elly standing in the living room behind them, a hand to her temple, partially obscuring her face. Neither were sure how long she had been standing there, or if she had materialized from around the corner.

Phil inhaled sharply. He had mixed emotions upon seeing her, knowing how many of his desperate texts to her went ignored, catapulting into the void, but more than anything else he was just happy not to be alone with Rya anymore. He went up to embrace Elly, but stopped himself. He self-consciously wiped his mouth again with a sleeve, trying to convince himself he didn’t still taste Rya’s desperation on him. There was no way. He worried also that Elly could somehow sense it, though that notion was even more ridiculous, even to him.

Luckily for him, however, she didn’t even notice his hesitation and promptly pulled her into him. Elly’s gentle but firm grip of him was a sharp juxtaposition to the despairing, hopeless grasping that he had felt from Rya not even an hour before; and, rather than notions of fear and nihilism swallowing him whole when Rya seemed to want to selfishly devour him in a fit of mystified desperation, Elly’s lips pressed against his delivered the ease and peacefulness at knowing that he held and possessed something that had actually kept him safe after what had turned into such a nightmarish experience. There were no agonizing phantom pains from unfortunately timed explosions and gunshot wounds, just the relief and comfort from the smallest gesture, giving the tiniest reminder of routine, normalcy — something he could finally come to depend on. And, when Elly pulled away from him, he exhaled a sigh of relief, as though something had been given to him, not stolen.

Elly, remembering her surroundings, sheepishly peered over Phil’s shoulder at Rya, who stood waiting patiently in the hallway behind them. Rya wordlessly shook her head and theatrically rolled her eyes, perhaps waiting for a punchline.

“Uh, so, Rya,” Elly said, clutching her elbows awkwardly. “Did you wanna talk or anything…? I know we kinda… didn't get a chance to, earlier…”

Rya shook her head again, but with more firmness this time. “No, Elly, not really. But I… I will. Just. Not now, if that’s okay. I’m not really…”

Her voice was starting to sound odd to her again, as though it were really disembodied and she was simply lip syncing as a cover-up. In the cemetery, she at last was beginning to get a true feel for her body, the way her limbs moved, the varying rhythms of her heartbeat, her chest heaving with each breath. The flood of different emotions that had courses through her had energized her in a way she had never felt before, even if a good deal of those emotions were negative. All of the repetitious cycles of her body were sliding from the forefront to her mind to her deeper consciousness, becoming apart of her, to her very core. They all reminded her, once more, of that supposed mortality that she now seemed to have obtained — again — although this time it seemed she actually had a chance to enjoy it. But what did that mean for her, exactly? There seemed to still be more questions left unresolved, ones she wasn’t even sure anyone would have an answer to. These were the deep philosophical questions that these people she knew wouldn’t have even begun to probe; after all, they never had to question where their body came from, or how it even existed — not in _that_ sort of way. In fact, she was realizing quickly that when she first agreed to become human, it had been a reckless decision, although she had no way of predicting consequences like these. When Phil stumbled over the word “accident,” she hadn’t thought much of it until now. Even if the questions regarding her existence rang true also for everyone else, they weren’t the same. Not at all.

Rya looked back up at Elly, as though the rest of her sentence lay not in her words but in the silence.

Elly nodded. “Okay, well, fine with me. Uh, we can talk later then. I’ll let you… rest some more. You’ve been out quite a while, after all. You're probably really exhausted.” She eyed Phil, but she knew she had no reason to be suspicious of anything, especially knowing how awkward and strained his relationship with Rya had been in the past. And, furthermore, she was the one purposefully ignoring him — and both of them knew that. Still, she felt hyper-aware of her every movement, starting to feel as though she needed to set some sort of example for Rya, perhaps one of a cautious stability. Her and Rya had always been close before, but she certainly did not want to have to baby her and hold her hand throughout the entire process. On the other hand, it was looking more and more likely that she would have to emerge as a parental figure of some sort.

“Well, I’m gonna make sure Rya gets comfortable and feels more… at home, I suppose,” Phil said. “Oh, and thanks for lending her some of your clothes, by the way.”

Elly laughed, albeit uncomfortably. “Yeah, u-uh. Rya? You can keep those, by the way. I… shouldn’t be surprised that Joel did very little to actually prepare for bringing someone back to life. That seems like something he’d let slip through the cracks. I guess we can figure that other stuff out later.” Rya took a quick, self-conscious glance down at her clothing, and then looked away. Elly continued, “Uh. So. I guess I’ll see you back in our room, Phil. I need to lay down, I’m feeling kind of light-headed or something…” She wasn’t totally lying; to be fair, the mere thought of a reanimated corpse wearing one’s clothing is probably enough to make most people’s stomachs turn.

There was a brief moment of silence as Phil, Elly, and Rya all looked at one another. Rya was attempting to internalize how they looked — her brain knew and recognized them immediately, but things still seemed so _off_ to her. Things still weren’t adding up in her brain, although it was trying and failing to connect the dots. Out of everything else weird that had happened to her so far, Rya was mostly miffed that so far no one’s heads had exploded. Maybe that would’ve made things make sense.

At last, Elly gave Phil’s arm a gentle squeeze and turned to leave, her expression twisting into one of disgust and horror when her back was to them. She involuntarily shuddered, although it was too subtle for the other two to comment on with any meaningfulness. Once Elly seemed out of earshot, Rya came up and slapped Phil on the squeezed arm.

“Okay, what the hell?!” Phil whirled around, and he raised his arms to block any other attacks, completely on the defense. “Why did you do that?!”

Rya, even as she balled her hands into fists, looked at him like she didn’t know what he was talking about. “So where’s this room at? Are you sure it even exists? You seem like you would make something like that up to placate me. To impress me, maybe.”

“Don’t be an ass. Come on.” He stepped in front of her and led her down to the last door in the hallway, on the left. He placed his hand on the doorknob and hesitated. He feared what was on the other side, or perhaps he feared how Rya might react to it. Even though he had become quite familiar with the space itself within the last few days, having Rya around suddenly made everything feel like a trap.

“Well? What are you waiting for? You don’t have to knock or anything, stupid,” Rya said, suddenly standing uncomfortably close behind him. “Unless there’s someone else in there that you’re hiding. I dunno, Phil. You seem to think I don’t know anything about you assholes, and maybe you’ve killed someone else to bring them back to life.”

“Ha ha, Rya,” he said drily. He paused. He had no other retort prepared. He braced himself, swung open the door and flipped on the light-switch on his immediate right to illuminate the room before them.

Compared to the rest of the house — which had been always been adorned with shelves upon shelves of video games and various other forms of media to give a sense of life or at least the sense of a place _lived_ in — the guest room looked desolate. The room had taken on multiple forms since Phil had bought the house, considering all of the times their friends and even his mother had cycled through at various points of their life. After the end of Bonus Stage, Phil had made it a point to keep the guest room ready — but not _too_ ready — for anyone else that had decided to breeze through his life. In a way, it made him feel more normal and real than anything else, having to rearrange and remove items as things changed around. However, once the group had found out Rya was coming, making sure that the guest room was prepared for a dead person threw them back into that mode of spontaneity, unpredictability, and worst of all, an underlying terror. Perhaps it was the terror that motivated Phil to make sure that the room was absolutely and utterly hotel-level immaculate, with the bed’s sheets pulled impossibly tight and the empty end-table carefully dusted, as though even a single fingerprint could taint the entire room. If Rya had known any better she might have poked around to see if there were a Bible somewhere. Everything appeared temporary. She felt hesitant to “unpack.”

Phil gestured weakly as he stepped inside, and Rya tentatively stepped into the room — her room — after him. She looked back at the door as though he were about to lock and trap her in here, although the jury was still out on whether it would be worse being stuck with him or alone. She squinted, scrutinizing every corner, but only stark white walls stared back at her. She seemed to be having trouble processing the situation in front of her, and what emotions she should be feeling, if any.

“Uh, well,” Phil said, starting to back away toward the door. He felt embarrassed, and he couldn’t quite pinpoint why. “M-make yourself at home, I guess. I’ll be, uh—”

“Wait!” Rya grabbed his arm to prevent what he wanted to be his swift exit. “So this _Elly_ thing…”

“ _What_?” Phil smacked his forehead with his free hand. “Are we back on this again? Do we — do we really have to go over this again? I’m not really feeling this conversation right now. Or ever. I don’t want to ever feel this conversation again.”

“I just _still_ don’t really get it. Can you please just explain it to me?” Rya hated herself for how pitiful her voice sounded, although logically she knew it had to be helping her at least a little bit. She knew Phil could easily be manipulated by women, and was hoping this was a fact that had not been completely changed over the years.

Phil exhaled sharply, the throbs of a particularly nasty headache returning with full force. Somehow, he had known that this was coming, but he was not in the mood to deal with hashing out more of the minute details of his post-Bonus Stage life to her, especially since it had not ended so well thus far. He was intent on burying as he had always done before, for good this time. “Can you _please_ just get off of that already? I don’t want to talk to you about my love life. Please. Just let it go.”

Rya sputtered for a moment, embarrassed and furious at the same time. “Well, but — I still have all these shitty gaps to fill, … Phil!”

“ _What?_ ”

“Okay, that was stupid. Like you. I mean, shit, sorry — _why_ can’t you just tell me?! It just doesn’t make any sense. And I feel like you’re just screwing around and messing with me, like the other one! Like… like Joel,” she said. She hoped to have gotten under his skin (or at least thrown him off guard) with the random comparison to Joel, but he didn’t even bat an eye.

“I’m not doing anything, Rya. I haven’t done anything,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though it was difficult. “You’re just confused, like I said before. And again, that’s not your fault at all, okay? You just need some time to process things, on your own — without any of my interjections, either. But I will remind you, once again, that you were not apart of our lives for a very long time. I’m not saying it to be an asshole. I mean, m-maybe it does make me an asshole. But it’s true. You haven’t even seen us for years. So don’t get these weird ideas in your head about what you _think_ should be correct, when you only know a limited amount. Please. Now, if you need anything, let me know. But I think you should spend some time on your own.” With that, Phil sighed and stepped back toward the door again, though he hesitated once more.

Rya sighed and went to go sit on her bed. She was pleasantly surprised by the quality of the mattress. She didn’t know what she had expected exactly, and didn’t quite know what the ramifications were of spending years sleeping on couches or mattresses riddled with errant broken springs that threatened to impale at any misplaced movement, but she did have vague memories of sleep in the simulation, and this bed seemed to be better than the only other one she had known. She inspected the blankets with her hands for a moment, getting lost in the moment of just sitting and noticing the texture of something, and when she looked up, she saw that Phil was still looking at her with a fair amount of concern in his eyes.

“Aaaand, okay. That’s weird. What are you still doing here, Phyllis?” Rya said, her words betraying her weirdly gentle tone.

Phil shook his head slowly, turning on his heel.

“Hey. Phil. Wait.”

“Oh, my gosh! What _now?_ ” Phil couldn’t even attempt to hide his exasperation anymore, though he refused to turn back to her and let her see the physical manifestation of his irritation on his face.

“No, no! Listen! I just thought of something. Did you wanna know something else?” Rya’s voice had taken on that high-pitched, almost childish tone once again. She no longer knew if she were doing this subconsciously or not anymore.

“Uh, hm?” Phil gave in and turned to face her, already nervous, though he tried to mask it with an appearance of apathy. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but he felt too bad for her to want to cut her off and leave her alone.

“I… I think I wanted you to go with me,” she said.

“Uh… Huh? Go…?”

“I remember that, at least. Back then. You know, Bonus Stage.” She paused, thinking.

“What? Jeez, Rya! You aren’t making sense.”

“This is hard for me, damnit! I’m peeling back the layers! Give me a second…” Rya rubbed her forehead. “I… I was hoping you would come with me.” She paused, still trying to figure out how to phrase it. Phil took the gap in her speech to open his mouth to try to interject, but Rya glared at him. “You know! Come with me! And… leave the simulation. Uh. I don’t think I ever got the chance to tell you, y’know, because of the whole death thing.”

Phil sighed deeply. “This is…” He stopped. He thought better of it.

“What?” Rya stood up from the bed. She felt her legs shaking.

“Rya, I can’t… You can’t tell me things like this now. I know you’re coming to terms with everything still, but you can’t just…” He knitted his brow, knowing that no matter how he said it, it was going to be the wrong thing to say. “Nevermind. Please just forget it.” His mind was already starting to reel again, back into those dark places that were supposed to be left forgotten, untapped, fiercely repressed, to rot away forever.

He didn’t want himself to feel useless and trapped in this situation, but Rya stepped over and grabbed his arm again with the same desperation, the same hopelessness as before. “But Phil, I can’t… You can’t just leave me here.”

He steeled himself. He couldn’t keep giving in to this, not when she was going to make things worse by saying things she didn’t really mean, things she didn’t really comprehend. He couldn’t let her keep pulling him in and then pushing him back anytime she got embarrassed. He had to let her think things over for herself, _really_ think, and not just use him to unload on continually anytime she remembered something and tried weakly to apply it to the here and now. He said firmly, “Elly is waiting for me. I have to go.” He delicately extracted her hand from his arm, letting it drop to her side.

Rya opened her mouth to protest, but Phil waved her off, determined to finally leave the room. She wanted to say something, anything — call him an asshole — but she couldn’t make herself do it.

Phil closed the door behind himself, with finality. Out of her grasp, he inhaled deeply, as though his lungs hadn’t been able to fully expand since crossing paths with her this afternoon. He leaned against her door for a moment and caught the breath that he hadn’t have even known had escaped him. He couldn’t believe she kept saying the things she did, pushing him and pulling him over and over. What could she have even possibly meant, her wanting him to go with her, to leave the simulation? And do what? He had had a life to return to, she didn’t have anything. She had nothing _now_. But still… The thought of it…

He thought of her grabbing him again in the cemetery, her claws stretching the collar of his shirt, and then, burying the images away, he thought again of how she could otherwise be so hot and cold — kicking him away any time she found herself afraid of letting him know too much, afraid of letting herself feel too much, but unable to do anything else. He shook his head and walked away.

* * *

Joel already had a murderous look in his eyes when June knocked on his bedroom door while he was sitting hunched over at his desk, pen in hand. He clenched the pen in his fist, thinking of the ways he could kill June, knowing he’s done it many times before, when there had been no real-life consequences. Although now he knew he could bring her back to life if he cared enough to do so, if need be. Still, he didn’t have quite the same, strange homicidal urges as he did in the simulation. This was completely different. Maybe. The incessant rapping continued, and he knew he had no choice but to humor her so that she might just leave him alone.

On the other hand, June had been shocked that he hadn’t been down in the lab for once, and hoped that maybe it was a good sign of him getting past his strange, hermit—like phase of the week. But when he opened the door for her and she saw the unbridled rage in his eyes, she knew it had just been a fluke, and her presence was certainly not a welcome one.

She tried anyway, “Uh, Joel, hey. Can we… talk?”

“What? What do you want?” Joel groaned, determined to continue to be as difficult as ever. He returned to his desk, fully intending to just return to his work, though he didn’t sit down just yet. June shut the door behind her as a means of trapping him.

“I’m just a little messed up about this Rya thing,” she said. She found that she was twirling a strand of hair again.

“Oh, here we go,” Joel said with an eyeroll. He stepped over to grab her hand that was fiercely tugging hair, and gently extracted it from the purple locks. “How much longer are you going to beat this dead horse? It’s dead, June. Uh. Metaphorically, obviously. ‘Cause I can bring that damn horse back to life now, you know. It’s a thing. I mean, what’s the difference between humans and animals, anyway? Not much. I mean, generally. Not trying to make some sort of deeper philosophical statement here, so don’t read into that.”

June laughed nervously. “U-uh, yeah, sure. I know what you mean. Um, well, now that she’s… Rya, I mean, now that she’s finally settling in and all, like… What next, you know?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Joel said, impatient. “She’s supposed to be smart.”

“Uh, no, that’s not it,” June said. She fumbled for a moment. She felt ridiculous. “I mean, Joel, what is _she_ supposed to like… _do_ …? She’s not even supposed to exist in the real world, and all. I guess I am just wondering what is supposed to be next.”

“Next, huh?” Joel asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Like, what’s _next_? For _her?_ ”

Joel didn’t answer her; rather, he turned around, dropped to his knees, and started digging through a file cabinet underneath his desk. June bent and tilted her head to try and see exactly what he was doing, assuming that he was just ignoring her rather than working on an answer to her vague questions. It wasn’t at all unlike him to completely disregard her existence, even if she was breathing down his neck.

“Uh, Joel?”

“Shh! Come on!” He continued fishing through a sea of unlabeled manila folders, when at last he extracted one. It didn’t look particularly remarkable in any sense of the word, just a plain, unmarked folder. Yet Joel seemed to know precisely what it contained. He haphazardly tossed the folder over his shoulder without looking, and its contents spilled all over the floor at June’s feet. She scoffed.

“Uh, okay?” She shook her head and bent to pick up the paperwork. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, _look_ at it,” Joel said, standing up. He snapped his fingers impatiently. “Jeez. Keep up. I’m not just making a mess here for my own amusement. Although it would be funny.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t exactly put that past you,” she deadpanned. Joel gave her a half-hearted smile in response, then gestured at her to read. She squinted, examining the papers in her hands. “Uh… Are these like — wait, is this a photocopy of a _birth_ certificate for Rya? _Rya Dawson?_ Are you for— How did you— And this is a…” She turned a few more papers over in her hands, the words stringing together to make tangible sentences in her mind. She read and reread things over and over, her brain having difficulty absorbing and retaining any of it. “This… this is a copy of a social security number. Is this real? What? What the hell? So you just, faked her existence too? Is that what this is? Is— Can you do that?!”

“June, babe,” Joel said, although it was patronizing. “People don’t need to know about this, this whole… Not dead anymore thing. Don’t worry about it. No one will even know, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s kinda like how we ‘disappeared’ into the simulation and no one came looking for us, I mean, did you ever think about that? And besides, it’s not like anyone even cares about our existence anymore since…”

Joel trailed off, then turned back to look at numerous other stacks of paper on his desk. He cringed to himself. He realized that his mouth had started to wander places his mind wasn’t quite prepared for. Joel felt June trying to peer over his shoulder at the papers, but he was effectively blocking her from seeing any of them. Even if she did see, he had stopped caring knowing she wouldn’t begin to be able to understand them anyway. He at last sat back down and picked up his pen again.

“Since when?” June pressed. “Since when do people not care about our existence? You act like we still don’t have fans. Have you even gone online lately? People still bitch about us dropping off the face of the planet, essentially. I mean, since the end. The forums still exist, even. Have you really not checked?”

“No, we don’t have fans,” he barked at her, “Not _really_. Not like back then! Anyway, that’s not the point, once again. I was just trying to make a comparison, so you might better grasp the actual point I am trying to get at.”

“Excuse me for not being a mind-reader, asshole,” June snapped. “You’ve been dancing around the point this entire time, so excuse me for caring. Why can’t you let one of us in? I know that… I mean, maybe we didn’t exactly respond the way you wanted us to, when you showed us Rya, but maybe it would’ve been better with more preparation, instead of whatever this is. We could have talked about it! We _should_ talk about it. That’s… I mean that’s kinda why I’m here, anyway. So… Explain this, then!” She shook the bunch of papers at him, then let them scatter to the floor again. Neither one of them moved to pick any of them up.

“What do you not get? I did what I needed to,” Joel said with a shrug. “Consider it ‘gotten.’ She’s got a full name and a number or whatever. She regained that life that was ripped away and all that. Seriously. Maybe you should talk to _her_ about what she wants to do. I can’t control her anymore. And furthermore, I really don’t care what she does. I mean, what the hell did she do before? Why do you even _care_? You guys weren’t even that close, not even when Rya thought you were a robot, too, which was really stupid, by the way.”

“First of all, dickhead, _you_ started that rumor,” she hissed.

“Did you ever refute it, though?” He smirked at her. “ _That’s_ kind of important. You even talked like one and everything. ‘Calculating’ things. Being ‘powered’ by others. Cute. And I mean, why _would_ you refute it? She was the only one who even remotely gave you any sort of atten—”

“Shut the hell up. We’re digressing, anyway.”

“What, then? What’s your damn point? Enlighten me, the person before you, Joel, the very one who brought a dead robot back to life.”

“Uh, _yeah_ , asshole,” June growled. “Thanks for that. Once again, Rya. I will remind you, she’s whole entire reason I’m here, duh. This whole… bringing someone back to life thing, don’t you know what that even means? Have you actually thought about real life consequences? I mean, holy shit, Joel! What does being alive even mean, if we can’t even really die? What does it mean to have a body that isn’t even really yours, not really? What is this _really_ all about?!”

“Uh, no, _stupid_. You can still die. That hasn’t changed,” Joel said, pulling a paper from one of his stacks and starting to furiously write things down. Him starting to take notes of some sorts placed June on edge, though she couldn’t be sure that what he was writing had anything to do with what was being said. She worried more about what he was thinking about and not saying. Joel continued, “In fact, this process is a friggin’ pain in the ass, are you kidding? I’m also not about to share this with anyone else, like I said. Just like the damn simulation. You know this, June. I don’t trust anyone else with this. I can’t even trust any of _you_ assholes anymore. Or maybe I never could.”

“But I don’t… even trust _you_ with it,” June said. “I don’t… get it.”

Joel dropped his pen again. “Maybe you shouldn’t. Anyhow, your whole spiel about the meaning of death, what it means to have a body, whatever the hell — it’s inconsequential. Rya will do what Rya does, which is probably be a prick to everyone and basically just useless in the grand scheme of things. Maybe she can go to school or something, learn a trade. She’s pretty weak without all of her modifications and all. But she has a brain that was essentially a computer before, so her options aren’t _that_ limited. Maybe she could make us some damn money or something. And, hey, that’s why I went to the trouble of forging all that damn paperwork that no one will probably even ask for or look at, because like I said, nobody _cares_. Someone exists that shouldn’t exist, but who cares? There is nothing that will come of this, no consequences, no repercussions of any kind, _whatsoever_. Just like old times. I mean, hell, you’re bringing up all of these philosophical questions that aren’t really relevant. How do you expect me to tell you the answers of the universe?”

“So then,” June said, exasperated, “ _again_ , what is the _fucking point_?! If no one is allowed to know outside of us?! If it’s not even for Rya herself?! What the _fuck_?!”

Joel smiled crookedly at her. “Don’t worry about it, kitten. All in due time.”

He sighed wistfully, leaning back in his chair. He ran his hands through his hair, although it was disheveled enough from lack of care that he had to yank them through some decently sized tangles. He grunted and finally glanced over at June again, who was still staring at him waiting for something further. He chewed on his lower lip.

“Ya know…” He stood up again. “You really have to give up on this whole thing.”

June cleared her throat. “Uh, what?”

“This whole… you trying to get attention thing. It’s not gonna happen the way you want it to, ever. No one actually cares.”

June’s heart sank. “Uh, no? What the hell are you trying to—”

“I mean,” he continued, placing his hands on her shoulders, “There are bigger things going on here than you and me, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Wh… This isn’t about—”

“I mean, you can say that all you want, babe. But you need to give it up.” Joel raised a hand to gently pat her head. He then moved past her. He swung open the door and left the room, as though he had better things to do elsewhere, as though he were the one who had intruded in the first place.

June raised her hands up in the air in frustration, stunned into silence. Then she looked over at his desk. She took one last sidelong glance over her shoulder and saw that Joel had indeed made a swift exit, though for what, she wasn’t sure. The way the conversation had ended, she was certain he wasn’t coming back anytime soon.

Her gaze shifted down to his desk, which still had his various stacks of paperwork. She saw again the ones they had left scattered upon the floor. With a sigh, she bent to gather them up and place them back into the manila folder. She placed the manila folder gingerly alongside the other papers, unable to take her eyes off them. There had to be something there in them. If she could make sense of any of them, even if it took some tedious digging… Perhaps it would be worth it. Perhaps it wouldn’t. Once more, she thought again of how she wasn’t even sure where Joel was going, or when he would be back, or if he would even care that she was poking through things. He didn’t act super protective of anything, even if he tried to shut down her various questions. Maybe he didn’t actually care at all. After all, he did just leave things out and abandon her in his room. Maybe that’s just how much he _underestimated_ her, how little he cared for her, how little regard he had for her feelings and intelligence.

With this thought in mind, she began shuffling through his paperwork anyway, with vigor.

* * *

“Hey, it’s me! Elly! Hey!”

Rya jumped when Elly finally came to her door. She looked toward her nightstand to check what time it was when she remembered she didn’t have a clock of some sort. With no concept of time, she guessed that it had been a couple of hours since Phil had left her. She actually wasn’t expecting Elly to come by at all; in fact, she figured she would have just kept hiding out in her and Phil’s room, continuing to abhor — or at the very least, ignore — her existence. Just the fact that they hadn’t had any real interactions yet had effectively forced her inside her own head and made her form strange assumptions, especially given the events from earlier in the day.

“What do you want?” Rya said flatly. She hadn’t yet moved from the bed. In fact, since Phil had left her, she had just been staring at the wall. Maybe she had even slept — though she had no way of knowing for sure. Time was still a complete illusion to her, she had no concept of how to fill her time, of how it might then be wasted.

“Were you up for talking at all?” Elly tried, her voice breaking the tiniest bit. In any other situation she probably would’ve come in without the okay, but she felt especially receptive to how sensitive Rya seemed to be. The entire situation felt like a glass menagerie precariously stacked on the edge of crooked desk, one misstep or quiver of the earth enough to send the entire thing splintering onto the floor.

After a deliberately calculated pause, Rya sighed. “Sure.”

Elly slowly cracked open the door and peered in, albeit fearfully.

“Please have some sort of backbone,” Rya said, waving her in. “I’m not gonna gun you down.”

Elly did as she was told, shutting the door quietly behind her — though she wasn’t sure if her eagerly following Rya’s lead wasn’t still a spineless, submissive act. She stood frozen in place. “So… About earlier.”

Rya felt cold. Her mind reeled through all the conversations that Phil and her had, and of course the moments in the cemetery. A million different scenarios played in her head simultaneously of the resulting conversation between Phil and Elly that could’ve happened just now, things Phil could have said that could’ve been especially incriminating. Maybe Elly was coming to stab her or something. That seemed about right. Her chest uncomfortably tight, Rya croaked, “Earlier?”

“Yeah. I know we kinda got off on the wrong foot, or whatever.”

Rya exhaled deeply. The tightness still hadn’t gone away, but she felt a twinge of relief at the fact that Elly continued to fumble and stammer, showing her own weakness. “You screamed a lot,” Rya said flatly.

“Oh… Yeah. I did, didn’t I?” Elly scratched her head, then finally came over to sit down beside her on the bed. She rubbed her legs frantically, as though she were freezing. “Well, I do that. How’ve you been, Ry-bear?”

“Oh. Nicknames. How quaint.”

“I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Well, uh… I guess I’m doing… okay.”

Elly paused a moment, hoping for a more elaborate, revealing answer. “Just… okay?” she said, the pitch of her voice raising. She struggled to think of a way to push things forward, and she struggled because she wondered if she should even bother.

Rya shrugged, making it evident that she wanted to remain taciturn and closed off. She didn’t want Elly to explain all the things that her and Phil had talked about while she had sat in her boring, hotel-esque room, completely isolated from everyone else. Although at the same time, she didn’t want Elly to want to skirt around it and _not_ tell her anything, either. Ultimately, she didn’t know what she wanted. She couldn’t even be sure that they talked about anything significant. Even still, she couldn’t help but stress about it anyway, and for what? She didn’t even know why it suddenly mattered so much, knowing all of the horrible atrocities they had committed against each other. No matter what the reason, she was finding it impossible to put words to her racing thoughts to ease these anxieties.

“Was there anything on your mind at all?” Elly tried again, after another moment of silence. She was a little put off that Rya hadn’t asked about her at all, but she tried not to take it personally. “Anything you wanted to talk about, anything at all…?”

Rya stared blankly into Elly’s eyes. Pulling herself out from under the weight of her racing thoughts, she got the urge to just fling insults at her again, if only because it seemed so easy. Elly still appeared as though she had a easily bruised ego, and one that not even a few years of a seemingly stable marriage could fix. It felt like such a safe way to exit the conversation she realized she didn’t want to have as soon as Elly came to the door. And why? Well…

“There’s one thing,” Rya said, brushing hair out of her eyes. She cleared her throat. Elly leaned in expectantly, and Rya could better see the fear in her eyes. “Why do you care?”

Elly was taken aback. “Wh… Huh?”

“Ever?” Rya said. “From even the beginning.” She felt herself starting to peel away these layers inside of herself, once again not sure what to do with all of the feelings she had about everything.

Elly stood up from the bed. “I’m not sure that would be worth digging up. U-uh, the beginning, I mean. That was such a long time ago. I couldn’t even really give you an accurate answer anyway.”

“Why not?” Rya asked. “Why is everyone being so evasive about it?”

Elly pinched the bridge of her nose. She could see this going nowhere, sort of like all of her conversations anymore. The only thing that she could even remotely remember about Rya’s beginnings was that damn pizza party she won. “I wish I could make you understand, but you’re just gonna take everything the wrong way. It’s… You just… This feels like this is something that would never have had good timing, okay? Except maybe right after your death. The fact that Joel took so long to do this… for whatever reasons… with whatever methods… I mean, I dunno, Rya. We just kinda buried you — uh, no pun intended. So all this stuff is new to us, too. I haven’t thought about the process of activating you in a long time.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Rya said, her emotions at last spilling over and forming actual, cohesive thoughts, “My existence is a huge inconvenience — not quite unlike when I was deactivated over and over when you guys got bored with me, or didn’t want me around, or didn’t see me as an asset in any of your dumb plots.”

“Uh… Where did that come fr—” Elly stopped. She started backing toward the door. “You know what, nevermind. I see you just want to be… antagonistic. Maybe you aren’t ready to actually have this talk.”

Rya stood up suddenly, blood boiling in her veins. “No, _you’re_ not ready, you woman child! This is exactly what you stupid people wanted to avoid. None of you want to own up to your shitty actions, and _I’m_ the one who’s irrevocably screwed up? To treat me like I’m clueless. I may have been a robot, but I had artificial intelligence! Even you knew that when you pulled that Evil crap. I wasn’t a hologram or some other played out crap.”

Elly huffed and placed her hands on her hips, trying to calculate a reasonable response. Rya was starting to get under her skin again, however, and she was fighting the urge to press some easily accessible buttons. She didn’t normally have some sort of leverage over her, but now she found herself equipped with a couple of cheap shots. “Now, listen, Phil and I talked about this. Of course you’re not just a hologram, we’re not idiots,” she said. “The problem is, you don’t have any clue what’s going on, so you’re just stuck lashing out a lot. Which is… expected. It doesn’t excuse it, but it explains it. We just want to help you! We want to help you get used to everything. But you also have to want it, and that’s something we have to work on together.”

“Great, Elly. Patronizing and condescending,” Rya deadpanned. “What else can I expect though, from someone who settled on the first rebound guy after a supposedly traumatizing breakup?” Rya smiled to herself, even though a part of her didn’t want to go down this road.

Elly clenched her fists at her sides. “A traumatizing— If I recall correctly, _you’re_ the one who had that fake marriage. _Rya._ ” She almost spit her name. There was no going back, now.

“Fake, was it? I don’t think so. You might be projecting,” Rya said, moving to sit back down. She wished she were in the simulation, because she would’ve been able to shoot her immediately, or at least beat the crap out of her. No consequences. Elly could bleed out, and she’d just be back the next week, if that.

“Craig wasn’t _real_ , you pain in the ass!” Elly said, voice raising, although it was cracking also — she could no longer hide how flustered she was.

“Please. He had more personality than you had in your damn finger. Or maybe that’s just _on-screen_ Elly,” Rya said, a spiteful smirk spreading across her face. “I dunno though, they never did let you have that much screen time, now did they?”

“ _Stop talking about this!_ ” Elly screamed, bitter tears springing to her eyes. “I don’t wanna _do_ this! You don’t wanna talk about yourself, you just wanna _screw with us!_ Next time you wanna actually face yourself without the _impenetrable_ _layers_ of irony and self-loathing, _think_ about it, and make sure you don’t just _kiss my husband_ instead!”

Rya narrowed her eyes. “ _There_ we go,” she growled. “Oh, we have no way in hell of passing the Bechdel test now. Can you get out of here, dumbass? I said we could talk, I didn’t know you were just gonna berate me because you made poor life decisions. Ie, marrying Phil Argus, the worst human I know.”

Elly’s head throbbed, she thought it would explode at any moment. She sighed deeply, counting to herself, slowly. She couldn’t let this continue any longer. “First of all, _you_ brought my marriage into this, asswipe. _You_ did. And I’m just saying to _think_ about it, these things you’re dealing with,” she said, still noticeably trembling with anger, “because you can do that now, you know. _Think_ , and not pull some weird… premade… artificial intelligence bullcrap out of your brain!”

“Get out,” Rya said flatly. She turned her body toward the wall, the very wall she had acquainted herself with the past few hours while Elly and Phil apparently sat around talking about her.

Elly shook her head and finally stepped out, closing the door roughly behind her — though without slamming it, so as not to draw any more attention to the pitiful excuse of a conversation they just had. She muttered to herself, “Maybe you should just have stayed buried,” but she said it loudly enough so that Rya might hear.

She did, in fact, hear it. However, such sullen final words of a fight meant nothing to her. She was already musing about something else.

She had been foolishly relying on Phil’s cowardice to stay quiet about what had happened between them, and was considerably embarrassed about the way the conversation ended up, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure if she cared that much or not whether Elly’s feelings were hurt by anything. Did she care? She hadn’t forgotten that Elly had essentially been one of her only friends in the simulation, if she could even call her that much. But the massive chasm that had formed between them over time, something that Rya couldn’t control — it’s what led her to this spot, operating only on snide remarks meant to hurt, and for what purpose? That was the other thing. She still felt in the right, for whatever reason. And maybe things had changed. Maybe. Whether it was for the worse or not was still up for debate.

* * *

When Rya slept, she dreamt.

Outside, the sky was blood orange. She had never seen the sky so clearly before. But did it matter? She knew there was an escape. She was told so. They wouldn’t lie to her, would they? What sort of ulterior motive would they have? There wasn’t such a thing as a story arc with mysteries like these. Everything else had to be tied up somehow, even if it was through just another plot-hole. More questionable writing. No, there didn’t seem to be clear answers, just a bunch of loose, frayed ends.

She tugged at her shirt, she fiddled with strands of hair. She kept glancing at her hands, knowing that underneath her skin there were veins carrying blood to her heart. She had a pulse, and she couldn’t stop hearing it, feeling it.

She took one last look back at Phil’s house. She hoped she wouldn’t ever see it again, as over a year of painful memories assaulted her just at the thought of ever associating with these people in the outside world. Outside. _Outside_. There was an escape, she was told so… Hopefully those people wouldn’t follow her there. Maybe they would stay stuck, their grips on reality slipping away as the addictive nature of the simulation held fast onto them. It was so much easier to be a cartoon, wasn’t it? To be one-dimensional. To be nothing more than a gimmick, and not even a particularly good one.

But she didn’t want it anymore. She wanted the escape. It was there. That’s what she was _told_.

It made no logical sense, of course — anything Joel designed would have made no sense — but it was there, in the pavement, the damn gutter — her escape route. She had no idea what was on the other side, really, but somehow she knew it had to be better. She had some idea of what it _might_ be like, given all the things programmed into her, knowledge of pop culture and media notwithstanding; in any case, there was only one way to find out.

She scanned her surroundings one last time.

Joel and Phil were both sprawled onto the grass on both sides of the street. She wasn’t sure if they were conscious or not, as they did not move or speak. Maybe they were drunk, or had gotten into another fight about consoles, which one was better.

She remembered also that the Joel and Phil she were looking at were not truly Joel and Phil so much as they were simulated manifestations of their real-life bodies. Looking at her hands again, she knew hers was no longer simulated, though she wasn’t sure how she knew. Things just felt _different_ somehow. Her heart was beating continually. Or maybe it was pounding.

She took determined steps forward. Phil shot up. He looked at her, fearfully, and then his gaze shifted towards the cloaked figure that materialized from the sky in front of her. She couldn’t react fast enough, it seemed. A real body moving in a simulation didn’t seem to work too well. She paused, studying the figure. It seemed like an agonizingly long moment that they looked at each other, though she could read no expression on the figure’s face.

And though she knew the knife went in, she felt nothing. Still, she gasped as the weapon was pulled from her, taking the rest of her short life with it. She moved to cover her chest, knowing it was too late. She felt her knees buckling, and quickly she threw a hand out to steady herself — she collided with pavement instead. She took a few shallow breaths, inhaling, exhaling, inhaling more — she felt nothing. There was nothing left.

She wanted to cross over, but not exactly like this. Although if this really was death, she didn’t see why anyone had reason to fear it. It was nothing like the gratuitous “deaths” she had experienced before. She felt nothing. In a moment, she could regenerate, maybe. But she felt nothing. The simulation could reset any moment, any moment now — but it _didn’t_. It couldn’t, she as real now, she was… She was…

 

Rya sat up in bed, slowly, groggily. She felt cold, but not uncomfortably so. She turned her head to the window and noticed she had left it open — or at least, she must have, although she didn’t quite remember doing so. Shivering ever so slightly, she leaned over to shut it.

She didn’t think that her brain had seen enough to be able to imagine any dreams outside of things she had already experienced. She pulled up her shirt to examine the scar on her chest. To her dismay, she was completely soaked in sweat. And for what? Stupid memories? At least things were starting to make a little more sense. There were still things she couldn’t understand, but it was seeming more and more hopeless for her to grasp these things. For whatever reason, Joel had brought her back to life, and he didn’t seem to care what happened to her after that. She was realizing that she was only important to him dead, as that’s when she had actually mattered — when he had something to do, a problem to solve. She was essentially discarded now that she was finished — useless as a completed puzzle is. The journey was over, the destination was not important.

Rya was starting to feel more comfortable now that she had prevented any more cool air from coming in. She glanced over at the nightstand, but there wasn’t a clock there to tell her what ungodly hour it was. She threw off her covers and stood up.

She drifted out of her room and found herself en route to Joel’s room for some reason. No way was she going to seek guidance or company from Phil or Elly, and she wasn’t in the mood for June’s antics either. There was still light coming out from the crack underneath the door. She opened the door without hesitation, without knocking. She knew about manners, of course, but she didn’t see any reason why she should have to exercise any sort of etiquette with Joel when he had been so brash, so cruel to her.

Although the light was on, Joel was lying in bed. He looked as though he were on the brink of sleep, and certainly looked comfortable enough for it in boxers and nothing else, but he barely reacted to her barging in.

She blurted out without thinking, “So, are you like, supposed to be my dad or something?”

“Huh?” Joel sat up in bed, though with no sense of urgency. “Calling me daddy now, huh?”

Rya grimaced, eager to backpedal. “Since you like… Made me and all. Or something.”

“Well, uh, no, Rya,” he said. “That’s not _exactly_ how that works. Yes, I made you, in just about every sense of the word. I’m pretty damn awesome. But this thing you’re saying… Where do I begin with that? Uh, well. You have my last name because ‘Botkins’ wouldn’t make any sense because you aren’t a bot… kin. Uh, yeah! That’s right. You aren’t bot-kin.” He laughed hideously at his own joke, to which Rya rolled her eyes. “Listen, I’m not your damn daddy. You can nip that idea in the bud right now, immediately. Forever.”

Joel tried to lay back down and get comfortable, satisfied with what he deemed a perfect response to shut down anymore weird lines of questioning. But Rya huffed, placing her hands on her hips, not willing to end the conversation so quickly.

“W-well… Jerk-ass! What, then? Is this?” She stammered, gesturing, and Joel raised an eyebrow at her.

“What is _what_? You lost me.”

“Um…”

“I mean, jeez. What even brought you here in the first place? What if I had been having sex or something? You just like, came in.”

“Sex?” Rya tilted her head. “What, like, with June?”

“Who is that?” Joel joked, closing his eyes.

Rya stepped over to the side of his bed. She smirked. She said dryly, “You know, the puppy that you’ve just been starving to death this whole time. Really, it’s kinda sad. But I mean, I get it. You don’t care about her.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, or anything _else_ in my mouth,” Joel said, eyes still closed. “It doesn’t matter that June doesn’t and will not ever satisfy me, but thank you for pointing that out. Really great.”

“Then… why are you with her?” Rya pried, sheepishly. She did not have any hope of breaking down any of Joel’s walls, especially knowing the strength of her own, but she figured it was worth a shot if anything. She leaned over the side of his bed, the tips of her hair just barely tickling Joel’s exposed chest.

Joel quickly swatted her away, shaking his head. “Oh, no no, we’re not going there.”

“But maybe I could do something—”

Rya moved to straddle him. Joel threw Rya off so quickly, she didn’t even remember hitting the floor. She sat in shock for a moment before her expression twisted into one of utter hatred and embarrassment.

“Just what the hell do you think this is?” Joel said. “I mean, I appreciate the come-on, I really do. But give me a break! You’re supposed to want… W-wait, oh God.” He clapped a hand over his mouth, and then used his other hand to point frantically at her. His speech was muffled through his hand, but the look in his eyes told Rya he knew exactly what had happened earlier. “ _Don’t tell me_ …”

Rya finally shot to her feet. “This is _your_ fault!”

“You tried to come on to Phil, didn’t you?! A-and it failed, because the jerk’s married now, and so you immediately just… But I never programmed you to…” Joel grabbed his sides as he burst into uncontrollable laughter. “I _can’t_ believe this… _Phil?!_ ”

There was clear murder in her eyes, but Rya’s cheeks burned bright red, taking all the power out of her gaze. Joel was rolling on his bed, twisting and tangling himself in his sheets.

Rya walked up to his bedside again, doing all in her power to keep from murdering him right there, wanting nothing more than to suffocate him in his own bed. “Can you explain, asshole?! Before I choke you to actual death?! I’m sure it would be _very_ easy!”

Joel forced himself to sit up and wipe a single tear of mirth from his eye, although his laughter was still not anywhere close to being finished. Rya balled one of her hands into a fist and held it up as a warning, as though she were a school bully on the prowl for lunch money, but he was unfazed. He knew that her being human now meant she was essentially rendered harmless, and couldn’t do a thing to actually hurt him, not really. He shook his head at her as his laughs finally petered out naturally, and not out of fear of reprimand, but he was still incredibly amused. The fact that he could feel her hatred radiating off of her only served to fuel his delight.

“Oh my God,” he said. “I guess you’re still working through some things, huh? Ahaha, is that why you asked if I was your daddy? _Jesus_ , Rya! _Come on!_ ”

Rya clenched both of her fists again, as though it would prevent the tears from springing into her eyes. Instead, they seemed to make things worse. She hated Joel, she hated Phil, and most of all, she hated herself for feeling.

“Seriously,” Joel continued. “You don’t wanna go down this road.”

“This is still your fault,” Rya said quietly, more to herself than anything else. “You did this.”

“Maybe June was right,” Joel said, sitting up again. “You need like a hobby or something. Have you tried video games?”

Rya sprang onto Joel again, though this time she grabbed two fistfuls of Joel’s yellow hair and slammed his head into the wall. He clawed blindly for a second before he oriented himself and realized exactly what was happening, and in another moment threw the entire weight of his body against her. She seemed to have a remarkable strength all things considered, but unable to properly gain balance in such a small space, Rya tumbled backward. Of course, Joel went with her, and him toppling against her on the floor effectively knocked the wind out of her, leaving her incapacitated for a few seconds. On the other hand, he was largely unaffected. He rolled off of her and jumped to his feet, dusting himself off. He tapped her with one of his heels like he were chastising a rambunctious puppy, and combed fingers frantically through his disheveled hair.

“What did we learn?” he asked sternly, his back to her.

Rya coughed in response. She continued to pant for a minute, trying to draw air in, but she struggled. She threw a hand out and grabbed one of his ankles. He shook her off as though he were shaking off a disoriented, drugged up kitten fumbling for food.

“You’re oscillating wildly between being desperate for sex and being desperate for violence. Too much irreverence and zaniness left in you yet, huh? Get it together. You’ve still got a lot of adjusting to do, but I can’t bail you out this time. I suggest therapy, or maybe a bath. I hear those are in,” Joel said. He sat back down on his bed, watching her continue to writhe on the floor in pain. “Look. I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill me. That’s not gonna do either one of us any good. I mean, what next? You’re in the real world now, asshole.”

“Screw you,” she said, between coughs.

“If you try that shit again, so help me God,” Joel said, his voice suddenly dark, “I’m gonna sedate the hell out of you. I have all sorts of ways to keep you quiet, remember that. I brought you into this world, yatta yatta, can take you out, generic threats, and so on.”

He feigned a yawn, then stretched dramatically. He plopped back down and rolled himself back into his sheets, even though Rya was still sputtering helplessly on the floor.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with a body that gave up so easily. Joel hadn’t even done anything so much as fall on her, and her lungs acted as though they couldn’t bear the thought of drawing in full breaths. Maybe she was psyching herself out. She forced herself to sit up, feeling her heart begin to pound — or perhaps it was already doing that, and she had just become aware of it. That was another thing, her ability to tune in and out of the strange things happening to her body at numerous times.

She glanced at Joel, who was determined to go to bed right at this very moment, and had thus begun ignoring her existence completely. She wasn’t sure why Joel was so quick to turn his back to her again, though she supposed that if he could overpower her that easily, maybe he really did have no reason to fear her. She thought of all the times she had managed to kill him, and how easy it had been then, how _weak_ he had seemed then. He made her, sure, but he had made her powerful, at least. Even though he had a hand in deactivating her loads of times, she always knew how to exact her revenge. And when he died, he didn’t even seem to bleed that much. Everything about his deaths had been so simple. Now the thought of spilling his head of its contents seemed to make her uneasy, even though originally the notion had been a gratifying one.

She trembled as she stood up, knowing that when she returned to the unfamiliar bed that was supposed to be hers, she would sleep and she would possibly dream, and then she would have to wake up again and again, for as long as she continued to breathe.


	5. Chapter Five

Phil had been in the middle of a spontaneous nap on the couch when he was startled awake with the jarring sound of pots and pans clattering to the kitchen floor, followed by gratuitous swearing. He sat up with a groan, wiping drool off of his face and taking stock of the room in a dazed state. He wondered if he would ever see a sleep cycle through without some sort of issue or interruption, whether it was direct or not. The previous night, after what he essentially considered putting Rya to bed, he had found himself unable to sleep restfully, as his thoughts continually plagued him with intensely vivid nightmares, the likes of which he had never experienced before. Every time he had awakened, he had just thought of Rya, and multiple times he had to convince himself to stay in bed and not check on her down the hall. He couldn’t risk waking Elly for something that seemed so pointless. It was just the child, once again, forming and emerging clearly in his mind. The only thing he could see was the child flitting about the house in the night like a damn ghost unsure of its origins — not much unlike her, at least.

He glanced around the room, still in a disoriented and groggy haze, the clutches of sleep still holding on, the vague traces of dreams at the fringes of his consciousness. He tried to remember what had pulled him out of sleep, thinking perhaps it had been another nightmare that had scared him awake.

“So… Guess what? Cassidy is supposed to coming over for dinner,” Elly said, coming into the room and dropping down beside Phil on the couch. She seemed distant, or at least disinterested in the words she was saying. She spoke also as if she hadn’t noticed Phil had been asleep only moments ago, as if the two had already been in the middle of a conversation. Phil slowly rubbed his eyes, taking a couple seconds to process this new information.

He tilted his head. “Cass? Tonight?”

“Uh, sorry, no, not tonight,” Elly said. She smiled weakly as she ran her fingers through Phil’s disheveled hair and then tried to flatten it down. “I guess that was kind of misleading. She’s coming over tomorrow night. But I’ve just been in a panic since I found out and have been cleaning everything like crazy, and trying to figure out what the hell to even make. We haven’t had guests over in so long! I don’t even know if we ever _have._  I mean, does Rya even count?”

Phil shook his head rather dazedly. “Ummm. Really?” His voice was still thick with sleep. “That seems kind of… Random. Seems kinda… Sitcom-esque. Is… Joel meddling again?” He narrowed his eyes at this suggestion.

“Er, yeah. I guess, if you wanna call it that. Joel called her, told her to come over,” Elly said, nonchalant. “I didn’t think it was super weird.”

“Oh.”

There was a distinct feeling of dread sitting in Phil’s stomach now, and he knew it was there to stay. Even if there were nothing suspicious about Joel spontaneously inviting Cassidy over for a dinner (that Elly and June had to prepare, no less), Phil still would’ve had a sick feeling settling over him like a deep haze, obscuring and eclipsing everything else around him just at the ill-defined notion that Joel could be up to _something._ He hated surprises, he hated the fusses, the underhanded plots; every gathering was just another sketchy scheme, some twisted way to amuse Joel’s borderline sadistic tendencies and his need for control of every situation.

“Well, Rya was his ‘big project’ for God knows how long,” Elly said. “And he’s excited and wants to share it with everyone, or whatever. At least, that’s what it seems like. I have no idea what else he’s planning, and honestly I’m so apathetic at this point that it probably doesn’t matter. If he’s not ever gonna tell us, maybe it’s not actually that important after all. And, anyway, I mean, maybe he’s just bored. Stir crazy? I don’t know. I don’t know how his mind works. He does what he does. But yeah, meddling, sure, babe. Maybe he just misses her.” She shrugged, and Phil rolled his eyes at her. Despite how lackadaisical her tone sounded, the way she fumbled with her words made it seem as though she had some qualms about the situation herself. Either way, she was acting a lot differently than she had the previous night, and Phil couldn’t place what it was that put him off outside of there being no distinct nervousness in her voice or body language.

“Yeah, I’m so sure…” He scoffed. But then, a realization hit him, and he sat up straighter, the pit in his stomach defiantly traveling downward. “Oh yeah! Cassidy doesn’t even know that Rya’s alive again. I mean, right? He didn’t tell her, did he?”

“Not to my knowledge,” Elly said.

“Well, and why _would_ he?” Phil asked. “I have no faith in him. A-and uh… Maybe that’s why, huh? I mean I… I wonder what she’ll think of that.” He chuckled to himself, hoping for some thread of reasoning to perhaps ease his anxieties, though unsure of what would even come of any of this. The pit of dread definitely had no intentions of budging; in fact, it seemed to be growing worse. Certainly things had not been panning out in any sort of good way at all, although Phil would have expected as much. No one seemed to be able to get ahold of themselves anymore. Things were falling back into a routine of organized chaos, something that had once been long behind them. He shuddered involuntarily, thinking somewhere deep within him that the group must be stuck in the middle of an arc that they had yet to see through to the end.

“Yeah, duh, Phil. Nice logic there. And, yeah, remember, this is all gonna be sprung on her, as she hasn’t had all of this time to be thinking about it,” Elly sighed. “We at least got a few days to mull it over before she was shoved in our faces. And… I… I don’t know, Phil. Cassidy… She was the least resilient out of everyone, I feel like. So, I don’t know. I don’t know what that will be like.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “And… What makes you say that, exactly? The resilient comment, I mean.”

“I… Well… I don’t know, I guess,” she stammered. She looked away. She was starting to feel Phil’s dread herself, or maybe it was coming from inside of herself.

Phil grimaced as his confusion only deepened, the haze of dread causing his voice to elevate in both pitch and volume. “What do you mean, you don’t _know_? Then why did you say it, then?”

Elly shifted her body a little away from Phil. His accusatory glares bore straight into her soul, and all at once she felt uncomfortable and vulnerable. “Jeez! I don’t know, you assuming dick. C’mon, think about it for a second. Think about how she fell apart, especially around when Rya died in the first place. The end of it all. Even when it seemed like she was controlled, she couldn’t seem to hold it together. Furthermore, don’t you even remember how she was at the wedding?”

Phil pondered this for a moment, and after a moment, shook his head slowly. His own memories weren’t appearing to match up to her words, although he did doubt his memories quite frequently anymore. “No, Elly, I can’t say I do remember… Why, was something weird? That was a totally different…” He tilted his head again. “W… Wait, Elly, she wasn’t… there, I thought.”

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t you remember…? She couldn’t make it for some reason. She wasn’t even in the _state_ , she said,” Phil said, with a strange certainty. The dread intensified. “She sent us her congratulations though, or something. And like, a blender or something. Right? I don’t know. I don’t even think we kept her gift, if she gave us one. But she definitely wasn’t there. She wasn’t in any of the pictures.” He leaned forward and dug his wallet out of his back pocket. He flipped it open, poking around to look for the aforementioned pictures, but came up short. “That’s weird. Thought I kept some in here.”

Elly stared into his eyes, trying to comprehend. She suddenly felt really cold, which habitually made her shuffle closer to Phil again, though she still kept her body angled away. At the moment, there was something about physical reassurance that vaguely repulsed her, rather than comfort. “That’s… Even weirder, honestly. Maybe I’m thinking of something else. But I could’ve sworn she was there.”

“Why? I mean, yeah, I thought it was stupid, too, but…” Phil drummed his fingers on his lap. Elly was quick to slap his hands to cease his nervous fidgeting, but he was quicker to continue as soon as she moved further away.

“I just feel like she was standoffish. In general.”

“About what, exactly? Us being together?” Phil asked. Even he wasn’t sure why he jumped to that immediately.

“Uh? I guess.”

“I thought she was generally supportive of us, albeit a bit wary,” he said. “Maybe I’m… thinking of someth— someone… else too… Anyway, so she’s… back in the state now? Or… something? What’s that about? Did Joel say anything else?”

“I’m just telling you what he told me,” Elly said, a twinge of annoyance lacing her tone. “Cassidy is coming over. That’s literally it. That’s why I’ve been running around like this.” She ran her fingers through her own hair. “But, uh, sorry if I… woke you. I kinda dropped a bunch of stuff in the kitchen in my hurry. Just a little frazzled, and June is being unhelpful at the moment. What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

“Uh, well jeez,” Phil chuckled. “Just tired. Um. But I guess that explains… the noise. I… think? Gosh, I don’t know. I’m also all sorts of messed up today…” He rubbed his forehead, leaning back against the couch.

“Yeah, I can tell,” she said. She laughed, and started to get up. “Well, I’m gonna get back to it, I guess.”

“How’s she been today, by the way?” Phil asked. He was trying not to sound too concerned.

“Rya? Oh… She’s been alright, I guess,” Elly said, starting to walk away. Her disinterest was becoming evident again in the tone of her voice. However, she stopped before she left the room to scratch her head in thought. “Yeah, no. She hasn’t really left the room much. She’ll be okay, I’m sure.”

“Um. Okay. Let me know if you need anything,” he said, though she had finally turned to leave at this point, mid-sentence. He sat up straighter and looked around, still fighting off the grogginess, and any further notions of a restful sleep cycle.

At that point, he turned his head to glance at the hallway, only to see Rya peeking her head out from around the corner. She waved at him sheepishly, then crept out of her apparent hiding spot to sit beside him on the couch. She plopped down and stretched in an odd, cat-like fashion.

“Uh, hi?” Phil asked, perturbed. “Were you just… waiting there?”

“Why the hell would I do that? That’s something a loser would do!” Despite her body language, Rya was not doing a good job at hiding how flustered she was. Her face was getting red already.

“Well, you could’ve done a way better job at eavesdropping, first of all,” Phil said. “Second of all, what was that for, anyway? Are you scared of Elly or something?”

“I… I don’t know,” she said. She rubbed her hands together anxiously, unsure if Phil was feigning ignorance to their fight last night, or if he really didn’t know. Once more, she wasn’t sure what was the favorable option.

“What? What is it?” he pressed. He reached a hand out and placed it over hers, not much unlike Elly’s attempts to cease his fidgeting. He withdrew his hand just at the thought of this weird parallel he just created.

Rya didn’t seem to notice either way. She started to tug at her shirt. “I… I feel like she doesn’t like me. For whatever… Dumb reason that’s stupid, probably. I don’t know why I said dumb and stupid in the same sentence.”

“Ha! Doesn’t like you? Since when do you care about that?” Phil laughed, but Rya looked crestfallen. His empathy was running too high for him to want to make any more jokes at her expense. “Um. Let me… try again. I’m sorry. I guess that was presumptive of me. What I mean was, you’ve always had that sorta tough exterior, always carried yourself a certain way. Whether or not it was actually true, you didn’t seem to ever care before, and even reveled in causing misery. So I guess what I’m _trying_ to get at in so many words is… Why are you being so transparent right now?”

“I don’t know! That’s the thing,” she said. She groaned, leaning back onto the couch. “I don’t know why I care. I don’t even know if I actually do! Oh, and you didn’t contradict me, ass! Does she really not like me?”

“Mmm, I wouldn’t say she doesn’t like you.”

“What would you say, then? Hopefully not something stupid.”

Phil smacked his forehead. “Do you want the reassurance or not?! Of _course_ she likes you. I… I don’t know what I can say to make you believe that, though. I don’t know. It’s just… It’s just complicated, I guess.”

He chewed his lower lip for a minute, musing. He was afraid, too, that she knew things that he didn’t know she knew. They seemed to have unknowingly reached a stalemate where one refused to divulge more than the other, though still being unsure of what they even knew in the first place. When Elly had returned to the bedroom after going to talk to Rya, Phil noticed right away that her hands were trembling, and that her breaths were shallow, agitated. It was certainly unlike her to appear so on edge, and he had wanted to do what he could to comfort her. However, she insisted on going to bed immediately. He felt suspicious, having heard voices being raised, but he wasn’t sure if it had amounted to anything. He found it best not to question it, though he still laid awake, worrying. Any time he thought he heard a noise, he had gotten the urge to jump up to see. But he found himself glued to the bed, the thought of Elly waking up to him leaving somehow petrifying in the most embarrassing way.

Phil cleared his throat. “Oh, uh… A-and you heard the stuff about Cassidy, right? Do I need to explain that to you?”

“Y-yeah. I heard that. That’s… something.” Rya itched the nape of her neck. She started to get up from the couch. “Um, I guess I’ll leave you alone, then, uh… I need to go brood some more anyway, or something. Since I can’t go on murderous rampages anymore. I need a new shtick or something. That’s how that works, right?”

“Ah, um, y-you don’t need to go!” Phil cried. “Really. Please stay. You don’t need to go brood. I’ll even uh, tell you… about uh. Me and Elly. I guess. Maybe it’s finally time.” He averted his glance, wishing he could take it back immediately.

“Uh, wow, really?” Rya laughed, although her tone was laced with sarcasm. She sat back down. “‘It’s finally time?’ That’s my bribe to stay, huh? You must really be lonely then. Though _that_ isn’t entirely new to you, even if you’re stupidly married now.”

“ _No_ ,” Phil grumbled, gesturing vaguely toward the kitchen. “You’re clearly wrong, and that’s clearly _not_ it, thank you. I don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “You’re just being so kind. I mean, you’ve managed to avoid the hell out of the subject this whole time, and now you bring it up on your own accord to dangle it in front of me like a carrot. If I were… Well, some sort of rabbit. Or a horse? Am I making sense? I mean, damn, Phil. That’s cold, and maybe I decided I don’t care anymore and that I actually hate Elly. And you. Making this whole conversation moot. And maybe even your entire existence, since I imagine you desperately need that validation to keep breathing.”

“Uh, great, okay, sure,” Phil said with a sigh. “That’s exactly it.”

“Go ahead, though. Maybe tell me and see if I don’t make fun of you. It’s like a game.”

Phil sighed again. He thought maybe he should start keeping track, if only to hold onto a loose thread of sanity while dealing with her. “Okay. Sure. Whatever. I know you’re just trying to put up a front, after all that’s happened. But I _know_ you still care, so don’t try and pretend.” He paused to glare at her, and she stared back intently. She folded her arms impatiently. He continued, “Okay, so, for what it’s worth, I… Well, you see, me and Elly… Elly and I… You might not have even known this — wait, what am I talking about? _Of course_ you didn’t!”

“This is great so far,” Rya said, beaming. She couldn’t help but be proud of herself, taking full responsibility for Phil’s incoherence.

“Holy crap gimme a second!” Phil waved an arm at her, and took a moment to gain his composure. He took a deep breath. “So. Uh, Elly and I dated briefly in high school. A… Long time ago. Uh. So we have do have history outside of Bonus Stage, obviously. Um. The reasons why things ended aren’t super important, and I do sorta blame Joel on some level for how things fell apart, but uh… Yeah, it was really rough to deal with, especially with him around continuing to ruin everything as usual. But… I persisted. I didn’t let her go— Wait, why are you looking at me like that? Stop looking at me like that!”

Rya laughed. “That sure sounds like the Phil I know. Seriously though, that is high levels of creepy, honestly. If things didn’t work out the first time, why can’t you just take no for an answer and move the hell on? That’s just sad. It’s not even a matter of being hard to get or not.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Uh, really? You’re one to talk, if you recall.”

Rya was caught off-guard by how unfazed Phil was, something she did not expect due to how vulnerable he tried to make himself sound. “Hey! That isn’t my fault! I thought that wasn’t my fault. Didn’t you say that?”

Phil laughed nervously. “Right… Uh. But your insults aside. In any case, we’re happy now, okay? After she dumped Andrew, she realized what a toxic person he was.”

“And you aren’t?” Rya asked, still hellbent on making Phil’s story as difficult to tell as possible, even if he was trying equally hard to keep his cool and see it all through.

 _“No!_ Jesus! Can you let me finish the story? I thought you wanted to know!” Phil crossed his arms, his exasperation becoming evident once more.

“I do, I do! Okay, sorry. Jeez. I’m just dicking with you. I mean, kinda. It is super creepy that you—” She stopped, seeing Phil’s expression contorting into that of disgust and disappointment.

“So… Anyway,” he began again, albeit cautiously, “She left Andrew, for good this time. And, well, she came to me. I mean, maybe it was easier for her knowing that I had been here this whole time, and that I would always be there for her, ya know? But either way, it just worked, alright? I mean… Jeez. That’s it, really. Nothing else more to tell. We were together for a while and then I asked her to marry me, she moved in, and there ya go. That’s the long and short of it, mostly. Happy?”

“Uh. Thanks,” Rya said simply. She turned away. There was something brewing inside her, though she knew not what it was exactly. She felt again that she was on the edge of understanding, but falling short again anyway, and that perhaps she would have no real way to wrap her head around anything. She was always going to be several steps behind at this point, no matter how many games of catch-up she tried to play; furthermore, she couldn’t be sure that people wanted to include her anyway. With how long it took for this conversation to run its course, and with how unhelpfully undetailed all of it was, how could she feel comfortable enough to ask about anything else? How could she know what the truth was?

She looked over her shoulder at Phil, who was giving her a perplexed look.

“What do you mean, _thanks_? Thanks for what, exactly?” Phil asked, his voice rapidly raising in pitch.

“Oh, my god, you whiny baby,” she groaned, “Stop getting offended. That’s cool. Your creepy love story was cool. That’s all.”

“So, no hard feelings or anything? No uh, _Rya, Destroyer of Love_ nonsense? I’m not in the mood to get my house destroyed now that I’m actually paying for it, and all,” Phil sighed. “And we don’t have a backup. I’m sure as hell not going into space again.” Now it was Rya who was giving him an odd look, and it made him feel unsettled again. His stomach turned, but still he fought to keep the mood light as he could. “What, are you not in the mood for jokes or something? You’ve been riding my ass since you got resurrected, give me a damn break!”

“Hmm. I guess I was expecting more flourish,” Rya said. “You didn’t even _try_ to embellish anything. I should have known, though. You were never any good at telling stories. Boring everyone around you. Ruining everyone’s lives… and so on.”

Before Phil could even begin to think of a good comeback, there was another crash, followed by frantic cursing.

“Mmm. I’m gonna go see if Elly needs any help in there,” he said, nonchalant, as though Rya had not just finished insulting him. “Elly might be my wife and all, but she sure as hell has not been domesticated.” He looked over at Rya one more time. He put a hand up to cup her face. “Hang in there, alright? I guess we’ll try and get the rest of this place cleaned up.”

“You don’t have the guest room available anymore, then, huh?” Rya said, a slight smirk crossing her face. She wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by it.

“Heh. If she wants to stay, she’s gonna have to use the damn couch,” Phil said. He shook his head while he started to gently pat hers. “Don’t even worry about her.”

Joel materialized around the corner, and he floated into the living room with purpose. Despite his lithe movements, one of his eyes was twitching, and he still hadn’t gotten dressed yet — much to Rya’s chagrin. With an irritated sigh, Joel stopped in front of the coffee table, glaring at Phil. Once again, no matter what had actually transpired, years of blame came falling directly onto the timid redhead’s shoulders.

Phil shielded his eyes. “Is there a reason you’re naked in _my_ living room?”

“Half-naked,” Joel corrected him.

“I would argue it’s more like seventy-five percent, actually,” Phil said.

“Have you seen June?” Joel asked, on message.

“Uh, no, why—”

Suddenly, Joel realized Rya was sitting beside him. Their eyes met for a brief second, and the look of aggravation on his face immediately dissipated. He burst into uncontrollable laughter again, almost falling over and having to support himself on both of his knees. Phil and Rya exchanged uncomfortable looks, although there was more knowledge behind Rya’s look than Phil could pick up on.

When his laughter cleared up again, he stood up straight again and shook his head. “Nah, nevermind, I’ll figure it out,” he said. He walked out of the room without looking back, although the other two heard him stifling giggles the entire time.

“What the hell was that about?” Phil asked, though he knew it was yet another question that was going to remain unanswered. Though Joel’s annoyance, eye twitches and all, did not exactly bode well for anybody, Phil had resigned himself from trying to puzzle out what was going on anymore. Furthermore, he wasn’t even sure if the anger had been misplaced or not. There seemed to be no point, lately, or at least any pay-off for what seemed like constant dread and worry.

Rya’s hands shook.


	6. Bonus Chapter

The group had taken a break from their cleaning and had gathered in the living room, not an entirely unfamiliar scenario. While June was sprawled out on the floor reading a magazine, Joel, Phil, Rya, and Elly were crammed on the couch, eyes glued to the television. This was an activity that even Rya had excitedly got behind, even though she did not recognize any of the shows in the channel listings whatsoever. Judging from titles alone, programs seemed just as vapid as they had been years ago.

During a break, a commercial blipped on the screen depicting a montage of caged feral cats and dogs in varying degrees of neglect, appropriate tear-jerking music blaring over it. A giant telephone number was emblazoned across the screen, blinking urgently. Simultaneously, everyone but Rya groaned in annoyance.

“Not this guilt-trippy Sarah McLauchlan crap,” Phil muttered. “I don’t care about their need for pocket change that serves only to fund their self-advertising t-shirts. It’s masturbatory. Just an endless circle-jerk of self-righteousness, with none of the actual helpfulness that would go to assisting animals in need.”

“Say masturbatory and circle-jerk again, in the same sentence,” Joel deadpanned.

“Are these new? They seem new,” Rya said, perplexed. She studied the images playing out on the screen, each one becoming more horrifying than the last. “Did they just beat up a bunch of kittens for the purpose of this commercial? Is that a paying gig?”

“I dunno, maybe,” Elly said. “Have you not seen these before? They’ve been airing for years and years, though I’m surprised they’re coming on now so early on in the day. Trying to reach a different demographic or something. Who knows.”

“Nah, Rya wouldn’t have seen it. She was stabbed and dead already,” Joel chimed in.

“ _Joel_!” Phil yelled.

Rya shrugged. “Well, that’s depressing. How come you guys don’t have any pets? You could probably help out one of these little kittens.”

“What? Uh, pets?” Phil asked.

“We did have that dog once,” Joel said, “Season… what? Season three, right?”

“Nah, it was season four,” June said, without even looking up from her magazine. She rolled onto her back and held it up as though she were shielding her eyes from the evocative pictures.

“Huh… What happened to that dog, anyway? I mean, does he still exist?” Elly asked, leaning on Phil’s shoulder.

Phil hid his face in his hands. “O-oh… I don’t know,” he said nervously. He peered out from behind his hands. “Where’s the damn remote, anyway? Enough of this.”

“I don’t remember a dog of any sort,” Rya said. “I think we should get a cat.”

Joel pulled the remote out from underneath him on the couch and started channel surfing. “I’m game.”

“We are _not_ getting a damn cat,” Phil said. He snatched the remote out of Joel’s hands and turned the television off.

“You _just_ — _you just turned the TV off!_ So if we’re not getting a cat, what the hell are we supposed to do now?!” Joel said, waving his arms about. “Besides, the Humane Society doesn’t stay open all damn day. It’s only a couple blocks away. _Come on!_ ”

“Uh, _no_!” Phil insisted. “I’m the one who’s gonna have to pay for it and clean up after it anyway, and I’m not in the mood, and I’ll never _be_ in the mood. A-and anyway, _furthermore_ , why the hell are you suddenly all gung-ho about getting a cat?” Phil asked, placing his hands on his hips. “You’ve never been interested in having a pet. That _dog_ we had, Joel? He _starved_ to death. That was a _simulation dog_! We couldn’t even keep a _simulation_ dog alive, Joel!”

Elly’s face contorted. “ _I knew it!_ ” she yelled. “I thought you said you didn’t know what happened to it! You _just_ said that! Anyway, I’m with Joel and Rya. I think it’s a good idea also, and we should do it!”

June snickered quietly, lowering her magazine and peering over to lock eyes with Rya, who had already been looking in her direction as an escape. They smirked at each other, evidently pleased at how easily Joel and Phil could work each other up into a frenzy, especially with Elly to join in.

Rya shrugged, perfectly content to listen to them have it out without adding in her two cents, knowing full well it would eventually sway in her favor anyway. She wasn’t sure why she wanted a cat, but in any case, it would probably provide a good distraction for her and give her a chance to make a connection with something actually real outside of the people in the household.

“No!! We’re not getting a stupid cat, and that’s final!” Phil shouted. “There’s not gonna be any comedic irony here or anything. We’re not gonna… End this _stupid_ fight by talking over me so that we end up there in two seconds. We can’t be _that_ — that would be really stupid! I’m not doing it!”

Joel extracted Phil’s car keys from his pocket and tossed them at his face. Phil barely had enough time to duck the attack. “ _Get in your box_ , Phil. Do it.”

If looks could kill, Joel would have been dead more times than Phil himself had been a hundred times over. But Joel refused to back down, and it wasn’t long before the group piled into the car.

* * *

“What about this one?” Rya asked, pressing her face to glass.

At the Humane Society, the five of them crowded around the small cage of a feeble, brown kitten. It was curled up in the corner of the tragically tiny cubicle, its small blue eyes heavy with sleep. There was a multitude of other cages that lined the wall, filled with different cats desperate for love just like the commercials touted, pawing hopelessly at people as they walked by. Compared to all of those, however, Rya was most captivated by this one.

“Oh no, no no,” Phil scolded, pushing Rya aside and blocking the cage. “We are _so_ not getting this one. No!”

“What?! Why not!” Elly groaned. Rya and Joel joined her exasperated sighs with their own cries of protest. “It’s definitely the cutest one! All the other cats are full of suck compared to this one. This is it. This one.”

“ _No!_ ” Phil spun around and pointed fiercely at its chart. “Ya see this right here? It’s _special needs_. It has _neurological issues._ Who knows what sort of care plan that entails? The costs! The medicine, the vet visits, the— the…”

“That just means it needs us!” Elly said, adamant. She folded her arms to further express this.

“I can probably fix them,” Joel said softly. He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked to the floor, dejected. Rya mimicked Joel’s body language in unspoken agreement.

“What are you, a vet suddenly?” Phil said.

“Maybe,” Joel replied.

“A-and besides, it looks… Pathetic!” Phil sighed. “And what’s with this act here, that you’re all… the looking really sad thing! Like the kitten! It’s not gonna work on me! I’m not — I’m not gonna fall for this and be suckered into this!” He glanced at June, who had been standing in the corner, silent. “Well, what do _you_ think, June?”

“I dunno, I guess I don’t really have an opinion,” she said flatly.

“Think about the commercial, Phil. Don’t be an asshole,” Rya said.

Phil smacked his forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me. First of all, that commercial isn’t sponsored by or for the Humane Society. That’s a completely different thing. And second — wait, no, you know what? No. Hold on, I should talk to someone. _Anyone._ ” He peered over at the receptionist sitting at the desk at the front, an adorable brunette who had been idly doodling on a notepad during their whole conversation. “Hey! Hello!”

He waved, and when she looked up to acknowledge him, he walked over quickly, thankful to get away from his dramatic roommates — even though they all continued to glower at him from across the room.

The receptionist stared expectantly at Phil, who had done a fair amount of work in exuding an irritated aura that saturated the room.

“Hi, look, my wife and roommates really want that cat, there, the broken one…” Phil looked over his shoulder and nodded at the destitute group behind him.

The woman stood up from her desk and peered over his shoulder. “Oh, Rusty?” she asked, smiling crookedly at him.

Phil nervously scratched the nape of his neck. “U-um, sorry, broken wasn’t exactly the word I was…” He sighed. “But uh, I have some um… Yeah. About her…”

His embarrassment gave the brunette a sparkle in her eye, though she tried to hide her amusement. “Yes. She’s really sweet. Did you have any specific questions about her, like the treatments, diet, or anything…?”

“Uh, I have lots of questions, actually,” Phil said, trying to regain his composure and control. “Yeah! What’s uh, what’s the deal, here?”

“Well, of course we ask that she is kept in a pet-free home, and that someone can always be with her unless she’s left in a cage like that. We try to exercise her a couple hours a day. She generally needs to be supervised because of these… fits she has sometimes.”

“Um. Fits?”

She smiled again, and began filing through some paperwork. “Like her chart says, she has some neurological issues, balance issues. When she’s up, they’re a little more obvious — she’s a bit wobbly on her feet, kinda stumbles around a lot. But sometimes, she can get a bit agitated, or what amounts to her seeing things that aren’t really there. She’s medicated. We have a list of the different medicines she’s required to take three times of day, administered through a syringe. It’s fairly simple. A lot of people have come by saying they want her but have been unable to follow up, which is understandable. We’re fully aware of the huge undertaking she would be, so if you do have any hesitations about it, we have lots of other options, and we’re willing to work with you.”

Phil exhaled deeply, and looked back over at his makeshift family once more. Rya was again pressing her face to the glass, tracing circles on it with a finger. Elly and Joel were on either side of her, though staring intently at Phil as though they would lose him if they dared take their eyes off of him. June was caught up in a text conversation, leaning against the opposite wall, and completely oblivious to the kittens that were excitedly pawing the glass above her head.

“Um, let me… Go talk to them, I suppose,” Phil said.

The group looked hopeful as Phil walked back over, despite the fact that he was still wearing his expression of apathy and mild irritation.

“What’s the good word?!” Joel said, going over and squeezing Phil’s shoulders. “When do we take the little rascal home?”

“ _Joel_ ,” Phil said. “This cat needs to be medicated.”

“ _You_ need to be medicated,” said Joel.

“That’s great. So anyway. This cat has issues, like I said, and I don’t know how this is gonna work out at all. This is probably more responsibility than you think it is. And if we take the damn thing home _today_ , that means we need to go out and buy a bunch of things for it, and we _still_ have to finish cleaning for Cassidy, a-and—”

“Phil, we need to rescue a damn cat,” Rya insisted. “And you said I could pick one.”

“Uh, no, I didn’t,” he said. “Anyway. There’s lots of other cats. I mean, look around. We don’t have to rescue _this_ cat.”

“C’mon, man,” Joel said. “We _do_ have to. This cat reminds me of you, Phil. It has layers, like an ogre. Or an onion.”

“What?” said Phil.

“The point is, Phyllis,” Rya said. “We can handle this. And I don’t see why you’re dragging this out and making us suffer when we all know that you’re gonna give in as usual. So you should just skip the whining for once, and just let us have this!”

Elly tugged on Phil’s sleeves. “Yeah! She has a point. You _do_ do the complaining shtick.”

“It’s not a _shtick_ ,” Phil said, exasperated.

“ _Baby_ ,” Elly crooned.

Phil looked at her, then back at Joel, then Rya, and again June, who was still adamantly not involved in the conversation. Phil then turned to little Rusty, who had at last stood up, trembling slightly. The kitten stretched and yawned, wobbling all the while. Phil stepped over and put a hand on the glass. Rusty hopped over and batted playfully at his hand, and then rubbed her tiny body against the glass, claiming him for her own. Phil dropped his head against the cage, casting his gaze to the floor. He inhaled.

“ _Goddamnit_ ,” he muttered.

* * *

Phil’s eye was twitching wildly when the group finally got home after successfully completing the acquisition of the cat as well as obtaining all of its necessary supplies and prescriptions from the local pet store. He couldn’t believe how quickly he had given in; furthermore, he couldn’t believe how quickly the entire process ended up being. After everything, he had been banking on the Humane Society to reject him and his overly chipper brigade. Cassidy was still on his mind as well, and he grimaced to himself at the thought of all the things they still had yet to do.

By the time they crossed into the household one by one, Phil had exhausted every argument with everyone, but his tongue still burned with things that he wanted to say. He shut the door sternly and turned to face Rya, who was heading toward the hallway still clutching the tiny kitten to her chest. She had immediately removed the animal from its carrier as soon as they got into the car, much to Phil’s utter dismay. Rya stroked Rusty gently with two fingers, effectively starting the cat’s engine. Though Rya was almost across the room, Phil could hear the robust purrs with a startling clarity.

In that moment though, Phil glimpsed that vulnerable side of Rya he had only seen in short bursts up until then, and he softened. He knew she was the main reason he had caved in the first place.

“What are you gawking at?” Elly teased, cutting through Phil’s intense thoughts and forcing him back to reality. She moved swiftly past him and set down some of the bags from the pet store for the moment. She returned to his side and tried to see what he was looking at, but Rya had already disappeared around the corner into her room.

“Mm, I was just thinking,” Phil said quietly.

He looked around to assess what everyone was doing, as a worried mother might do, and was pleased to see that June had picked up where she had left off earlier in her cleaning. Joel, on the other hand, was already sprawled out on the couch as though he had just laid down to rest after a long day of intense manual labor. This was obnoxious, but altogether unsurprising. Joel was snoring loudly after about thirty seconds.

“Yeah? About what, babe?” Elly asked, still riding an upbeat and talkative vibe from the shenanigans before.

“Well… About this, I guess,” Phil said, slowly. “I’m happy for her.”

“For… Rya.”

“Yeah, for Rya,” he repeated. “I know it seems impulsive as ever. But I think… Giving her something to love unconditionally like that… It can definitely do her some good.”

“Ha… Yeah. You might be right,” Elly said. “Seeing her so captivated by it. It’s refreshing!” Phil nodded and squeezed her against him. Elly shifted uncomfortably. “Th… There’s just one thing nagging me, though.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

Elly moved to bury her face in Phil’s shoulder, muffling her voice. “Do you think she’ll, like, get bored and massacre it or something? Try to inject some slapstick into the situation and just punt it into the wall or— or something?”

Phil’s eyes widened comically. “I… W— Well… It can’t be any worse than Joel and I being unable to keep a dog alive for more than seven minutes without it starving to death.”

There was a strange pause. Then both him and Elly doubled over, howling with laughter. Joel, startled awake, rolled off the couch and smacked his face against the corner of the coffee table.

Phil and Elly couldn’t even hear his groans of agony over their guffawing.


	7. Chapter Six

Rya shot up in bed, shaking.

She wasn’t sure if she had dreamed, but she felt profoundly unsettled. There was that ambiguous feeling of being impaled again, nagging at her as it had sporadically since she had first awakened. Despite this strange sensation creeping up on her once again, and much unlike the night before, she had found it easy to fall into a slumber of a decently refreshing quality. Much to her surprise, not much had transpired throughout the rest of the evening, as the rest of the household had been preoccupied with a deep cleaning of the house — an intense task that forced them all to focus in a way that she had never quite seen before. Even Joel had become somewhat involved at some point, if only to make unhelpful comments and snide remarks about spots missed and other things not yet done due to his inability to jump in and provide meaningful assistance. Despite the time spent apart, she started to feel as though she really did know everyone again, strokes of familiarity weaving into her consciousness and strengthening with each conversation, their quirks and mannerisms showing through bit by bit in a comforting routine.

She squinted at the ceiling, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She seemed to remember when she didn’t have to do that. In some ways, she found herself incredibly annoyed at her body to have to catch up with her already active consciousness. Once more, she tried to comb through memories, seeing if she had any fragments of dream feelings left, any nuance or inkling at all, but there was nothing.

She had that crawling sensation that she wasn’t alone, but she tried to dismiss it as a fleeting fantasy. After all, she wasn’t sure she could even trust her own feelings anymore, given how events have unfolded thus far. In her short time alive, they only ever landed her in trouble due to her impulsive tendencies, acting on knee-jerk responses like her life depended on it. Her mind also couldn’t stop dancing through conversations she had had over the past couple days, the memories already warping past their original realities.

At last, Rya leaned over to the window and pulled up the blinds, staring into the blackness of the street and the surrounding neighborhood. Of course she was glad to have escaped the nonstop irreverence of the simulation, finally able to see people for who they are outside of the comical limitations of the genre they operated in, but in some ways she hated how quiet it was now, all of the time. There were no shenanigans left to be had, no more slapstick violence to combat the awkward moments of actual plot and clarity, not even a gimmicky five-year-old con artist staring at her from outside, watching her sleep. The quiet — that was one thing she couldn’t stand, even if she were getting used to being around everyone else, and how they were supposed to act in real life, in real bodies. She still had no idea what she was supposed to be like, if anything at all. Maybe she wasn’t meant to be normal. Maybe she didn’t really want it after all. Maybe…

“So you’re really alive, huh? Awake and conscious?”

Without even flinching, as though she had known all along that someone had been there, Rya turned toward her door, toward the voice. She rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the shadow that formed a familiar person. “Cassidy, what the hell?”

Cassidy, a woman of lithe stature garbed in a dark trench coat, stepped out of the corner of the room and stood over Rya’s bed, her darkened silhouette looming over the ex-robot. “I wasn’t sure you even slept. Wow. You’re actually, _really_ alive, then, after all. That’s… interesting. Not unexpected, but interesting.”

“Right… You seem like the last to know. But seriously, what the hell?! This is Phil-levels of creepy, and _I_ would think I would know the boundaries of _that_ . I half-expected it to be him, after all,” Rya snarled, sounding as though she were more annoyed than anything else. Having put up with much weirder things in the past, she couldn’t exactly find it within herself to be frightened. Cassidy did not intimidate her in the least, she never had, not in the small window of time they had exactly crossed paths. “Seriously, get _out_ of here. What do you even want? I mean, really, Cassidy, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you? Honestly, clearly there’s a lot. It’s a rhetorical question, idiot. Jeez, I’m so friggin’… I must be tired as hell.”

Cassidy sat down incredibly close to Rya on the bed, practically breathing on her neck. Rya balked a little at the sudden invasion of personal space, but she was still largely unfazed.

“You’re charming as always. I just thought I’d pay you a little visit,” Cassidy said, her voice leveled, calm. “I should think you haven’t changed one bit, although I’m not sure how you possibly could have.”

“Uh, okay. A visit, huh? Smarter ways to do that. More normal ways to do that. I thought you were supposed to come over tomorrow, anyway,” Rya said. She glanced outside again, suddenly unsure whether or not she had possibly slept through an entire day. Given that her sense of time was still completely off kilter, she opted to trust her gut instinct that Cassidy was unexpectedly dropping in early. “I, uh… How did you even know I was alive in the first place? Have we ever even held a conversation together, just the two of us? Ever?”

Cassidy smiled, albeit crookedly. “No, I don’t believe we have ever sat down to have a conversation together. What better time than the present?”

“Doesn’t seem like a reasonable response, nor an answer to my question. Not really.”

“Maybe not. Anyway… How did I know you were alive? I guess Joel was supposed to be keeping it some sort of surprise, or something,” Cassidy sighed, stretching out and lying down on the bed. She closed her eyes. “Unfortunately for him, he’s an absolute idiot and didn’t hang up the phone when he thought we were done talking. I overhead him snapping at June to do something for you, then I heard him bitching at you for something else. So, I figured it out. It was pretty stupid. But I had to see for myself, before anything else.” Rya stared blankly at her, clearly reaching new depths of the meaning of misunderstanding, wondering also if there were distinct questions she should be asking to break through the layers of perplexity. Cassidy read the sheer bewilderment on her face and snickered. “I see that even though you’re confused as hell, you’re still too apathetic to do anything. Are you not even gonna try and scream for help or something?”

Rya’s face contorted, looking even more perplexed than she had before, if it were possible — but then, her expression shifted quickly into misplaced anger. “Uh, why the hell would I need to do that, mouth-breather? You’re completely harmless, as far as I know. Even if you’ve just revealed to me how creepy you can be. I still don’t really buy it.”

There were tentative footsteps down the hall. Cassidy tensed and sat up for a second, listening intently. Every muscle in her body seemed poised, ready to do something should the footsteps come any closer.

Rya opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wondered what would happen if someone came in right now. Maybe there was a potential for hilarity. But for some reason, she couldn’t find it in herself to speak. The footsteps got louder, stopped, then turned back the way they had come, until they stopped completely. A door shut somewhere down the hall. Rya couldn’t place it.

After a moment of silence, Cassidy leaned close to Rya’s ear and lowered her voice dramatically. “Harmless, huh? Are you really not afraid of me? Not even now?”

Rya took her hand and placed it directly on Cassidy’s face, forcefully shoving it away. Cassidy resisted and grabbed ahold of Rya’s shoulders, compelling her to look into her eyes. Rya searched them, but she could tell Cassidy was intentionally being difficult to read; in either case, Rya wouldn’t exactly know what to look for. She kept wracking her memory, going at it from different directions, but was coming up blank no matter what. This was proving to be more frustrating than any other problem laid before her thus far. Joel’s purpose in bringing her back from an unorthodox death to an uncertain life was strange — paradoxical, devastating — but she was well on the road to accepting and wrapping her head around it for what it was worth. Phil’s nonsensical marriage to someone that was supposed to hate him forever, strange, but she could learn to work her way around it. Her own feelings still swirled angrily around in her as though she were an aggressively shaken snow globe, but she was working on it. This, however, this random insertion of Cassidy into her life where she had never much been before… And now she was suddenly in her room, breathing into her ear… Something just wasn’t right.

Rya shook her head. “I don’t understand still. Like I said, we’ve had no meaningful interactions, ever. What is your deal? What would your motive be? To be here? In my room? Why am I asking all of these questions? I’m not even sure I _care_! I just kinda want you to go away!”

Cassidy carefully traced her fingers down Rya’s shirt, causing her to involuntarily shudder in a grotesque way. Though Rya herself fumbled with issues of personal boundaries a couple times the past few days, she was reminded just how painful it had been those other times when her space was encroached upon. Cassidy continued, she slowly lifted Rya’s shirt up, and Rya was too shocked to stop her. Cassidy placed a firm hand on the ex-robot’s chest, over the outline of the scar that was still very much visible. She whispered to her, “How’s this doing? Is it possible for it to still hurt?”

“H… How the fuck…” Rya blushed intensely, scrambling to pull Cassidy’s hand off of her and cover herself back up.

“How do I know about that? That you got stabbed?” Cassidy asked. She crossed her arms and stared at her. She almost looked amused.

Rya squinted back at her. She couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t just reading Cassidy incorrectly. She muttered, almost to herself, “Were… were you there? I don’t remember that…”

Cassidy covered her mouth to stifle a sudden bout of giggling that appeared to flutter up quickly from somewhere deep inside her. Even realizing now that there were lines Cassidy could cross, that she was capable of inexplicably breaking and entering into Phil’s house, the act still sounded so innocent to Rya. Of course, there was still something very off about it. But Rya just couldn’t reconcile these two contrasting viewpoints of Cassidy in her brain. Rya had never known her to be malicious. In fact, the woman always even seemed to be bubbly and nice, nicer than any of the other characters, even if she had never said anything good about or to Rya directly. If anything, Cassidy seemed to be able to cut through the uncanniness of the simulation and bring a charming, familiar aspect to it. Even Rya had been able to pick up on that the few times she had crossed paths with her.

Rya shook her head, still lost in her own thoughts as Cassidy continued to chuckle quietly to herself behind her hand. It was just so strange. Everyone else had appeared seriously disturbed about the events leading up to Rya’s death, despite the circumstances. Although Rya somewhat understood that trauma could manifest itself in different ways, she had a hunch that this was not the case for Cassidy, someone that hadn’t even been around until now. Either way, Rya felt as though she were sinking deeper and deeper into an endless labyrinth, no idea how to escape — or if there really were an escape to begin with.

As Cassidy’s laughter died down, she looked back to Rya, a curious glint in her eyes. She breathed, “Have you really not figured it out by now?”

“It just never made any sense,” Rya said, “I mean, I guess I had started to just write it off as the same old chaotic formula of the show, and I… I don’t think I had any enemies… I mean I guess maybe June was acting _weirdly_ but I don’t think she’d be smart enough on her own to… And Andrew never seemed to have motives for anything… A-and, Phil said no one knew who the…” She met eyes with Cassidy again, who smiled pleasantly back at her, and suddenly things shifted inside her and clicked into place. “W-wait… It was _you_?” Rya’s voice broke. “ _You_ were the cloaked figure?”

“Ha. I should probably give you some credit since you were dead and all, but jeez. That sure took you a while,” Cassidy said. She absentmindedly ran a hand through her hair and then reached into a pocket on the inside of her trenchcoat. She extracted what appeared to be a dull blade and examined it, nonchalant as though she were scrutinizing a toothpick after a meal. For a second, before Cassidy gingerly placed the knife on the nightstand beside her, Rya almost half-expected her to pick her teeth with it. But Rya still wasn’t convinced; rather, she was finding herself even more annoyed and possibly insulted by Cassidy’s lackadaisical attitude.

“Okay, so we didn’t spend a whole lot of time together. That was established. But this seems like some sort of… shitty twist to a shitty show. A little _too_ familiar,” Rya said. “But, okay, I’ll humor you. So, uh… why? Does anyone else know about this?”

Cassidy laughed again, heartlessly. “For the most part, they seem to know even less than you do, dumbass. But think about that for a second. Do you think they would still be friends with me, and then _invite me over_ , knowing what happened? Had they not told you how clueless they were about the whole thing? I mean, I guess if you thought _really_ hard about it, you might deduce that they knew all along and were screwing with you this entire time, bringing me over only to twist the knife in — no pun intended.” She snickered at her own joke, which was something that caused a chill to run down Rya’s spine if only because it reminded her of Joel.

“I mean, I… don’t…” Rya stammered for a moment, trying to catch her bearings. Suddenly she was getting her answers, but too quickly for her to hold onto anything and process it completely. “I can’t remember if Phil said this was all apart of the show or not. I know he said everyone didn’t know what happened. But was it just all apart of a contrived plot? I mean, you being the least likely out of anyone to be murderous.”

“I think you’re misunderstanding.”

“A-and, what else? You’re really calling yourself friends with… all of them? Or are you just…” Rya squinted at her. She still couldn’t figure out her angle. “I mean… I mean maybe Joel—”

“No, no. Hmm. I guess I use the term ‘friends’ loosely,” Cassidy said. She sighed. “That’s not at all what I mean. Don’t get hung up on that part. You obviously don’t know what they were like back in high school, but I’m sure you know that you don’t even need that background knowledge to be hip to just how screwy and delusional they all are. A pack of self-indulgent, narcissistic assholes.”

“Right,” Rya said flatly.

Rya looked out the window again, wondering what time it was, if everyone were still asleep. She just knew there had to be some sliver of a possibility that Joel was still awake, and even if he wasn’t, she could always try screaming like Cassidy had suggested before. But then it occurred to her that she wasn’t quite sure how to do that in the first place, as simple as the act itself seemed. She had learned to modulate her voice to some degree, if only by mimicking others in trying to get a feel for her own emotions and how they could cause her voice to take on different and appropriate (or at least natural) pitches and inflections, but currently she did not feel prepared to utilize the muscles she knew she had in order to create a suddenly loud, shrill sound. They were somewhere in her, and she knew they worked, but the entire process eluded her for some reason. Furthermore, she wasn’t even sure if fear — the supposed motivator behind shrieking — was something she was supposed to be feeling right now. And if she couldn’t stand behind her own emotions, she knew that a scream wouldn’t just somehow materialize from inside of her. Finally, even if she did manage to scream without Cassidy falling upon her to stifle the sound, could she really trust someone to come to her rescue, considering all of the previous arguments she’s had that have gone unquestioned, unresolved? Was she actually even in danger? Was Cassidy actually capable of killing her again, and potentially willing to do it, right here, right now? What if Cassidy was lying about how much the others knew, and Joel had actually planned this all along?

Rya shook her head and asked again, “Uh, so why, then?” She lifted her shirt again, without a trace of shame, and scrutinized the scar. Though it was faded beyond any meaningful recognition, it was actually starting to look grotesque, if only because its origin was starting to become more clear for her. She pulled her shirt down again. “I don’t think you told me yet. Unless you’re just gonna be a bitch and dance around that too.”

Cassidy sat up quickly, and Rya flinched, perhaps for the first time since discovering that her alleged murderer had spontaneously showed up in her room and watched her sleep for an unknown amount of time before creeping out of the shadows to confess to her the motive behind her murder. Cassidy gently cupped Rya’s face in her hands and drew her near, close enough so that Rya felt her breath on her face.

Rya was mesmerized for a moment, her eyes locked on Cassidy’s. Suddenly, her mind started reeling, her memories fighting for cohesiveness, a logical progression from one event to another. The vivid nightmare came back to the forefront of her mind again, all the loud colors of the simulation bleeding into her vision. She saw Phil and Joel sprawled on the ground again, Phil’s strange look as he shot up from the ground, dazed, only to watch the Cloaked Figure — _Cassidy_ — deliver the fatal blow. And then, somehow, she heard the end credits in her head, she heard canned laughter, she thought of every person who had watched it and found her death not tragic but irreverent, funny. And could someone sympathize with a robot, even? The show continued on, without her, despite everything, until it fell apart at the seams. She imagined this past — a future she never had — and Cassidy disappearing, she thought of Phil’s stories of defending her, and then she thought of everyone else hating her, loathing her, forgetting her.

At last, Cassidy opened her mouth to speak. Rya found herself thrown out of her deep introspection to face reality — a nightmare of its own merit.

“I’ll tell you why,” Cassidy said, her voice dropping to a whisper, “It’s because of _Phil_.”

Rya, her heart pounding, brought her hands to Cassidy’s and pulled them down. She said, in spite of herself, “W-What…? He wanted to kill me?”

Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Come off it. Are you playing dumb to be annoying?” She paused, but Rya merely shook her head meekly. “Wow, I thought you were supposed to be one of the smarter ones. Unless you’re somehow suffering from some sort of delayed brain trauma from all Joel has put you through, which isn’t out of the question. _No_ , you _idiot_.” Her voice had taken on a deep, guttural tone, laced with malice.

“Th— then — what is it?” Rya’s throat was dry again, and her words came out strangled, taut. The memories, the dreams, the memories of dreams all threatened to come forward again, trying desperately in vain to pull threads the together. “What does he have to do with…”

Cassidy eyed her blade beside her for a split second, then looked back at Rya, waiting for her to finish her question, but it was apparent that the words had been stolen from the back of her throat, lost in dead air. Cassidy cracked her knuckles. She cleared her throat.

“You love him, Rya.”

Rya’s face grew hot. She was really starting to hate this. “W… _What._ ”

“Don’t act like an idiot. _I know you’re not_ ,” Cassidy said.

“What are you _talking_ about?! Maybe you really _are_ batshit!” Rya said, voice frantic, beginning to increase in volume. She could feel herself becoming more panicked, her heart pounding as though it were purposely banging on her ribcage, meaning to escape. She didn’t want to fight these feelings, hoping still for the strength to scream. She stood up. “How could you _possibly_ say that I love—”

Cassidy snarled, tugging on Rya’s collar and yanking her back onto the bed. “Be quiet! And _don’t_ call me that. Listen to me. I’m not _stupid_. Phil is an idiot, but I know he would have figured it out sooner or later. And even if _you_ didn’t immediately, it would have been inevitable anyway.”

Rya took a deep breath, the agitation and panic still potent, but subsiding. The general annoyance and irritation were settling back in, however, as she began, “C-Can you stop talking in a stupid, roundabout way? Is it really impossible for you to just get to the point? I mean, oh, my god, Cassidy. You sound like a villain of a B-movie. Can you be anymore cliche in your vernacular?”

“I know what your original programming was for, stupid. Joel told me,” Cassidy said, rolling her eyes once more. “If you want me to be more _straightforward._ Maybe he didn’t mean to, but it came up. And, uh, even if he hadn’t, it was obvious as hell. But I know you couldn’t ignore it for much longer. I mean, even Joel knew that at your core, that was all you had been built for and nothing else. Did you really not understand that? The fact that you were modified so many different times — you know, because you _sucked_ at achieving your actual goal — and had so many mood swings and knee-jerk reactions the way you did, it didn’t actually mean anything. In the end, you were going to be loyal to Phil and Phil only. I couldn’t exactly have that, even if it would’ve taken you forever to get there. Just the fact that Phil knew about your programming too — something else Joel told me, by the way — it influenced the way you were treated. Meaning… Phil started to think twice about being a complete asshole to you, even when you continued to play hard to get and were dead-set on turning everyone girl away from him.”

“What the… What the hell? I already know why I was built. But you’re not making any sense,” Rya said. “What does that have to do with why you killed me?”

Cassidy gave her a wry smile. “Come on, Rya.”

“What?” Rya asked. Her bewilderment was still greatly offsetting her fear, as well as any other sort of emotion that was bubbling under the surface. “Are you trying to say that… You… Phil…”

“Uh, you were in the way, Rya,” Cassidy said calmly. “You were a threat to me. I thought I’ve made that clear by now. Regardless of the actual outcome.”

Rya bit her lip so hard, she thought she tasted blood. “Wh— But then what about _Elly_ , then, dumbass? I’m pretty sure she would have been more of an obstacle to conquer. Even if Phil treated me better, I fail to see how I was a _threat_. Phil did not _like_ me, he _doesn’t_ like me, he’s made that much clear to me.” She held her head in her hands. She sighed. “I—I mean, not that I… Care. I mean, really.”

“I’m so sure.”

“Ugh! It doesn’t even matter anymore anyway, dumbass!” Rya said, voice raising in both pitch and volume again. “Wasn’t it a fucking moot point anyway?! The idiot is _married_ now! You messed up! So you just killed me for _no reason!_ ”

All at once, Cassidy looked as though she were going to spit venom. She clenched both of her fists, and Rya instinctively scooted away, bracing herself for the possibility of being struck or possibly stabbed again, knowing she had at least one blade on her — possibly more, given the size of her trench coat. In that split second, Rya tried to imagine the outcomes of either scenario and what she might do in response. Apparently she had a weak body. Instead of anything else, however, Cassidy fiercely grabbed ahold of the collar of Rya’s shirt again and pulled her close. Rya inhaled sharply, but Cassidy did nothing more but grasp her tightly.

“I don’t know where you get off acting like you know jackshit about what happened in there,” Cassidy began slowly, calmly. As she went on, though, she spoke quicker and more frantically, breathing and spitting directly onto Rya’s face in a fit of anger. “Yes, obviously Elly was a problem. The thing is, she _wasn’t_ as important back then. It would’ve been much easier then. She wanted nothing to do with Phil after their falling out in high school. She was dating Andrew, but really all she cared about was Joel, anyway. _Everyone_ knew that. Plain as day. But don’t worry, I was gonna get to that, knowing that Phil loved her anyway. It was apart of the whole thing. Don’t get it twisted. I just never got the chance because Phil flipped out and destroyed the entire thing before my plan could come into fruition.”

“So _what_ then?” Rya asked, a million other questions aflame in her mind. All she could do now was push forward, continue to ask questions, if only to keep her grounded. If only to keep Cassidy focused on not killing her at this moment, or wreaking havoc somewhere else. Of course, she knew also that she was probably just delaying the inevitable. At this point, there was no telling what Cassidy had planned. After all, Cassidy did not seem to be hesitating or balking at any of her questions.

“I had to disappear,” Cassidy said. She relaxed her grip on Rya for a moment, but she did not let go. “I didn’t want anything to be traced back to me, after all. I knew it wasn’t likely in the first place, but I had to take my chances. After the show ended, I skipped town. The funny thing is, nobody even thought of me. It was as though they couldn’t believe for themselves that I was even in there with them.

“When I caught wind of Phil and Elly getting married, though, I had to see for myself. I was invited, surprisingly, but I played it off like I wasn’t going to be in town, in the state. I gave no explanation, and as expected, they didn’t even bother to ask. I showed up anyway, though, but I made a point not to talk to anyone and even tipped the photographer to keep me out of the photos, playing it off like I was shy and unphotogenic — again, I didn’t want to solidify myself in their memories of the event, in case something else happened. I had to keep a low profile, especially in the event of… well, _you_. I had a feeling Joel would have done something to dig _you_ back up.”

Rya shook her head. She grasped onto Cassidy’s hands, which were once again fiercely holding onto her and stretching out her collar. “But… How do you even know all of these things?! How did you know Joel would bring me back?”

“Call it a hunch, I guess,” Cassidy sighed. “I was still plotting away. With or without you. When I got to the Strife-Argus wedding, I could tell Joel was getting bored, restless. A guy like him can’t just be idle forever. He needs something to do. I would think even his idiot girlfriend would know that much. He was wasted before the reception, before the ceremony was even over. And after the simulation… I mean, damn, Rya. I’m not even sure you would comprehend just how intricate and complicated it was for him to have built something like that. I still don’t even know how any of it was possible. Plot holes and system failures aside.”

Rya ran a shaking hand through her hair, trusting herself to avert her gaze for a moment. “I mean, your weird logic and understanding of the situation, this all just raises another question… Maybe this is only tangentially related, but how did you even get in the simulation in the first place? How were you on the show? If I remember correctly, you just showed up out of nowhere, in the middle of the universe. What are the odds…” Rya’s heart dropped, her stomach lurched. Things were starting to come together in a sickening way, and she wasn’t sure if she were fully prepared to hear the entire truth of the situation, even after all this.

Cassidy chuckled. “Years and years later, and you’re the only one that’s even questioned that. Funny. Everyone must underestimate you, huh, including me? Well, listen to this, jackass. I had been watching the entire time, and within the logic of the flimsy cartoon, I knew it would be easy to slip in. I had been planning for a while, you know, but I had to still be calculated and guarded about it. Breaking into Joel’s lab was — well, here’s the thing, Rya: I didn’t even have to actually break in! S-Sure, I had to smash a window to get into Phil’s house, but do you think anybody would actually notice that? There was no way. Nobody cares about you guys.

“So of course it was easy to waltz into Joel’s lab, hook myself up to the machine, and assimilate into the cartoon as though I were supposed to be there. Joel thought it was weird, but having lived inside of it almost exclusively, it’s basically as if he thought he put me there himself! And for all he knows, he did! Nobody paid any mind to me. He just launched me right into his schemes to get me together with Phil, so he could keep up the drama and have his stupid little show be interesting. All the ridiculous arcs and plot devices… My God, and Phil sure as hell needed a new love interest to throw into the mix.” She looked as though she wanted to continue, but started to laugh so hard, she loosened her grip on Rya. As Cassidy pretended to wipe a tear away, Rya finally wriggled out of her hands.

“I… I can’t believe this.” Once more, her fear began to overcome her anger, her indignance. Rya was suddenly finding it impossible to breathe, as though their seemingly endless conversation had exhausted all of the oxygen in the room. She loathed needing oxygen. “There’s no way.”

“Yes way. And what’s better is no one’s going to believe you. And no one’s going to know what hit them when I kill you again,” Cassidy said, her voice once again controlled and unusually pleasant.

“Should I be asking why you’re not doing it now?” Rya asked, at last coming to this topic. She was still trying to maintain some level of control, but her voice threatened to break on every word. “K… Killing me, I mean? Or have you not decided yet? Wh- What else could you be planning? What’s supposed to be next?!”

Cassidy simply smiled at her, and said no more, perhaps waiting with baited breath to see if Rya had any more desperate questions to ask. Cassidy was the hungry cat who had just finished sharpening her claws, her last kill still stuck between her teeth.

The silence burning her ears, Rya wet her chapped lips, the dryness returning with ferocity. She croaked, “Okay, okay. Let me just… back up. Let me make sure I really understand.”

“Since I’m so kind to tell you. I don’t have to.”

Rya swallowed, hard. “Y… Yeah. So you’re saying… Nobody knows about this. No one.”

“Ha, not quite. I didn’t actually say that, you just assumed, since I didn’t outright deny it. No. No. June and Andrew know, obviously,” Cassidy said. “I mostly thought I didn’t have to spell that out exactly. Unless you really don’t remember?”

“Andr— Wait a second, _June_? June knows?!?” Rya said. She remembered how aside from Joel, June was the first one she talked to — the awkward attempt at a hug, her half-articulated apologies. Her face was feeling hot again too, as her mind began to reel again.

“Uh, yeah. June and Andrew were essentially my accomplices, you could say,” Cassidy said. “That sounds official and all. You see, this had been in the works for a while. I didn’t exactly have a way to kill a robot, so we had to try something else.”

“Wh— okay, now _that_ doesn’t make any sense,” Rya growled. “If I wasn’t even supposed to be in the real world, why would I have mattered at all?”

“Oh, come on,” Cassidy said. “Joel obviously had bigger plans for you. Again, thought that was obvious with the whole _built-to-be-Phil’s-robot-girlfriend_ plot. Stupid, but that was a thing. Also, June suspected that Joel had been perfecting the technology to turn you human for a while, and was figuring out how to work that into the script. She told me that much. June was a lot more observant than she let on, I think. She was getting tired of being ignored, or something. So she was willing to do anything to help with something that would get her back into the spotlight, if even only for a tiny, insignificant moment.”

“Ah, crap,” Rya said, smacking her forehead. “Does it really just go back to that? Uh, wait, wait — did she — she knew you wanted to dispose of Elly too? How deep does this whole thing run?”

“Not really. Don’t give her that much credit. Said she was observant, didn’t say she was friggin’ Sherlock.”

“Holy shit. Things are starting to make a little bit more sense. June has been riding me this entire time with what I thought was misplaced guilt,” Rya said. The fear was starting to dissipate again; righteous anger was beginning to form in its stead.

Cassidy laughed, darkly. “Guilt, huh? She feels bad now? Knowing she assisted in killing you? I’m sure she was pissed knowing that Joel was gonna bring you back. Maybe even humiliated. What a riot. I’m a little miffed myself that she didn’t tell me first, but what the hell. I assume Andrew isn’t around?”

“I have no idea. No one’s even mentioned him. I hardly even spoke to Andrew, same as you!”

“I think he did a better job of disappearing than I did, although I imagine so. I’m sure he didn’t want everything getting back to him either. I mean, my God. He was actually trying to hook up with June, which is why he bothered. He was just using Elly anyway,” Cassidy mused. “But… I’m digressing pretty hard. Since even _you’ve_ been clueless as hell, I doubt we really had anything to worry about in the first place. Eh, better safe than sorry.”

“Well then what the hell? What was their motives for helping you?! Boredom?” Rya snarled. Although things were enraging her more and more, part of her felt great about getting more of the puzzle that she had previously assumed just had missing pieces. Why she trusted Cassidy with any of the information, why she trusted _anyone_ , she wasn’t sure.

“Oh, please, I just told you,” Cassidy said. “And like you don’t know that June is thirsty for attention, always. I didn’t even know she wasn’t even a robot until the very end! That kinda changed some things, although she probably would have ended up dying too, unbeknownst to Andrew… Who just so happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Nice cliche, asshole,” Rya spat. “What a friggin’ joke. I just have a few more questions.”

“God, really? And here I thought we were just about done,” Cassidy deadpanned. “Normally I wouldn’t bother, but I guess it gets boring keeping things all to yourself. And you know what they say, ‘Three may keep a secret, if two of them are dead.’”

Rya raised an eyebrow. “Who said that, exactly?” She shook her head quickly, before Cassidy could answer. “Wait, that doesn’t matter. My other question does, though. Wait, m-maybe I more, as I think of them. But listen. Why all of this for _Phil_? What the hell makes him so special you actually wanted to murder everyone? Why take that risk?”

Cassidy’s face contorted. She grabbed ahold of Rya again, but this time it was both of her shoulders. She sank her nails into Rya’s clothes. Her voice taking on the unnaturally gruff tone again, Cassidy said, “Don’t act like you would even _understand_ love. And who are you to  even say? You wanted to murder everyone over that dumbass deadbeat that sounded like a dairy farmer.” She paused. “Or — or a… stoner. A stoner? I— I’m actually not quite sure what Craig’s shtick was.”

“I’m going to ignore that low blow,” Rya said brusquely, through clenched teeth. “What, you’re gonna tell me you and Phil _belong_ together? That it’s fate? Because if that were the case, you’d think you wouldn’t have to try to slaughter all of his potential suitors, and not only that, but _fail at the job.”_

Cassidy turned swiftly and grabbed her knife off the end table. “That’s about enough out of you.”

Rya raised her arms in defense, but Cassidy crammed the blade back into an inside pocket. She turned and yanked on the window. It gave in with a shuddering groan, and she promptly hoisted herself up and sat on the windowsill. “I’ll see you later.”

“Wh— what are you doing?!” Rya reached for her, and looked back to her door. “You can’t just _leave! You’re not gonna_ — I mean, I could just tell everyone and call the cops or something! Right?”

“You poor thing,” Cassidy said, turning her body again and dropping down onto the dewy lawn beneath her. “No, no you can’t. Even if you did, like I said, _no one_ would believe you. Have a nice night.”

“What… the _fuck_? Wait… But y— you said— Andrew and June know!! Won’t they say anything?” Rya pleaded, leaning over but not quite sticking her head out the window after her.

Cassidy froze, and looked Rya dead in the eye. She said matter-of-factly, voice dropping to a theatrical whisper, “There’s nothing they can do it about it, Rya. They’re afraid of me. And now you know you should be too.” Cassidy placed her hands on the window and wrenched it down, just barely missing Rya’s fingers. 

* * *

The light of day had broken through Rya’s window, but she had not slept. Rya had been rocking back and forth on her bed for the entire night, blankets pulled up to her chin. Every muscle in her body ached, but she did not notice. She had not stopped tensing and trembling. Hearing the birds slowly wake up and knowing the sun was beginning its ascent across the sky from the other side of the world helped solidify in her mind that it had not been a dream. She had to be sure. Absolutely sure. She couldn’t risk falling asleep again and having her dreams blur the lines with her reality. Perhaps Cassidy would have changed her mind and come back to kill her again. Maybe she was still around, waiting. Either way, there were too many things weighing on her to let her sleep anyway. It didn’t matter. She was wired, delusional.

She flinched when there came a light rapping on her door. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out, just a tiny squeak. She squeezed the blankets to her face out of frustration. This was certainly not the time to be weak.

Carefully, Phil opened the door the tiniest crack. He anxiously peered in.

“Hey,” he whispered. “I wasn’t sure if you were awake, but I… uh…”

“C… Come in,” Rya said, though her voice was barely audible.

Phil nodded and backed in, closing the door. When he turned around, he revealed that he was cradling a sleeping Rusty in one of his hands. Rya cracked a smile for the first time in quite awhile at the sight of her. Phil sauntered slowly over and took a seat next to her on the bed.

“I just had a weird dream, that’s all,” Phil said, voice low. “I thought maybe something had happened… I woke up in the middle of the night and I… I almost checked on you, I don’t know… And so I had been trying all this time to just let you be, but… I don’t know. I couldn’t really get any restful sleep after that. Weird feeling. A hunch, maybe. How are you doing?”

“Um…” Rya stuck a hand out to feel Rusty’s softness, feel the steady breathing underneath her, knowing the kitten was alive, just like her. This minuscule, fleeting comfort gave her more strength to broach the topic of Cassidy with Phil, though she was wary. She wondered briefly what might have happened if Phil _had_ checked on her, but she worried also, knowing what she knew now. Knowing what Cassidy could be capable of. She feared for Phil, maybe even more than she did for herself. Of course, while she wasn’t sure what to do with her new life, she knew for sure she wasn’t ready to die. But even more, Phil had lived and experienced much more, that much was obvious. She couldn’t bear the thought of his missed potential, the life with Elly she knew he had so desperately clamored for. Whether or not he deserved it, she didn’t want it taken from him. Not now. She had a pit in her throat that didn’t seem to want to go away, and she kept swallowing instinctively, though it hurt her to do so.

“S-Sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything,” Phil said. “I’m probably being super intrusive right now.”

Rya shook her head, continuing to pet Rusty, who had awakened and begun to purr loudly. Phil smiled down at them.

“The damn thing has grown on me, I have to admit,” he sighed. “I’m pleasantly surprised that you had even taken such an immediate liking to her in the first place. I underestimated you, and for that I’m sorry. Since you’ve gotten here, I’ve been… Well, we’ve all been really unfair. And I know it probably doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry. I truly am. I want you to be able to just… Live. So I think this could be really good for you… Uh, this cat I mean… Jeez.”

Though Rya appreciated Phil’s speech, her mind had, of course, been lost elsewhere. Indeed, Phil felt uneasy, taking her thoughtful silence as a simple rejection of his apologies. Even while he was happy not to be insulted right away, he wondered how much of that was attributed to potential sleepiness on her part, or how much she was keeping inside.

Phil lowered Rusty to the bed. The kitten wobbled to her feet and stretched, then promptly walked over to nuzzle against Rya’s legs, which were still buried underneath her sheets.

Then, Rusty howled and shot across the bed, clawing Phil’s legs with reckless abandon. He started to yelp, but he cut himself off, suppressing the rest of his surprise and anger deep within him. He chanted a mantra in his head as he pried Rusty off of him and plopped her back down on the opposite side of the bed. Almost immediately the kitten acted sedated, as though she had accomplished just what she needed to do.

“Yeah, uh, you remember how to administer her meds right?” Phil asked, a sharp edge of irritation cutting through the previous sweetness in his tone.

Rya’s first smile of the day only widened. “Yeah, I’m on it.” She began lazily fishing through her end table to gather up all the materials. Though they were haphazardly shoved in there, Phil’s heart still swelled a bit at the prospect of her graciously accepting the stressful responsibility of medicating a kitten with neurological problems.

Phil stared at her intently as she scooped Rusty up with no issue and held her fast in her hand. In less than a minute, she managed to successfully inject the syringe into the scruff of the kitten’s neck. Rusty didn’t even flinch or mewl in protest.

Phil dusted himself off and got up to leave. He would have to inspect the depth of his wounds later. Without looking back at her, he said, “I’m gonna make some breakfast or something. I’ll let you know when it’s ready, if you feel up to eating anything. After all, we have quite the evening ahead of us, I suppose. Um… Or something to that effect.”

“W-wait, Phil, I have something that’s really important,” Rya said.

She smacked her forehead, thinking of the time before when she kept trying to prevent Phil from leaving her alone, and how annoyed he had gotten with her. Though Phil was now looking at her over his shoulder with mild interest and concern, Rya knew she had to have some semblance of subtlety this time. She thought of Cassidy’s disturbing confidence last night, her threats, the words that chilled her to her core as they turned over and over in her mind. But logically she knew there were more of them than there was of her, and if she could do something, anything to convince Phil — or maybe even get June to admit the truth, something could be done. It couldn’t be as impossible as Cassidy tried to make it sound; in fact, that had to just all be apart of her stupid game.

But Rya had no tact, she couldn’t help herself. “Cassidy was in my room last night!”

Phil fully spun the rest of his body around, though he didn’t seem upset, just dazed. Perhaps he wondered if he himself might still be asleep. “Wh— huh?” Whatever his mood was, there was no sense of urgency in his voice whatsoever, which annoyed Rya in ways she couldn’t place.

Rya fumbled, even as she tried with all her might to stay composed enough to form a coherent sentence. “Okay, listen! She, she — I don’t know how she got in, you might want to check all your windows and doors! Maybe even more than that. She’s an asshole!! But she was in my room, and she left through the window, this one here,” Rya said, speaking all too quickly for him to process.

Phil shook his head slightly, knowing each and every word she used, but not comprehending how they could be in sentences together. He looked down at the kitten again, who had dozed off even despite the anxious energy permeating the room. “Oh, d-did you have a bad dream? Did you wanna talk about it…?”

“ _What the_ — no, I’m being serious, you toothpick!”

Phil rubbed his eyes. “Toothpick… That’s… Hmm.”

“It wasn’t a damn _dream!_ I know what those are like, not that you would know or anything. I had a bad one, a _really_ bad one, you know. But this wasn’t like that. This was real. She was actually there. She was threatening everyone, even!” Rya lowered her blankets, as though she planned on standing up.

Phil prevented this and stepped to her bedside, and he held a hand up, wishing there were some other way to slow her down. “N— I’m… Threatening? What? Rya, you’re kinda babbling. Babbling and blathering. What is going on?”

Rya grabbed ahold of his raised hand and held it close to her. She feared if she let go he would find some way to make an escape. “And even further, she said she was the cloaked figure! Well, she didn’t _say_ it, but I figured it out and she confirmed it.”

“The… okay, the cloaked figure? _Come off it_ , Rya. That’s impossible. Where are you getting this from?” Phil wasn’t sure it were possible for him to raise an eyebrow any further, but Rya seemed to be testing him. He gently removed his hand from hers.

“I already _told_ you,” Rya said, exasperated. “The horse’s mouth, or whatever people say. Is that a thing still? Anyway, she was here, last night and… Why are you shaking your head? Why don’t you believe me?”

“Rya, I know it’s probably hard for you to unpack everything, but you have to take it easy,” Phil said. “Cassidy… You didn’t know her very well, I know, so I know it’s probably pretty scary to have to face her. I mean, I wouldn’t know myself, but I imagine it would be fairly easy to build someone up in your head like that—”

Rya sputtered for a second. “Wha— _No!_ I realize that! That’s not, that’s not lost on me. B-b-but, you can even ask… _June!!_ June knew about this _entire_ plot! You have to believe me! I don’t know what else to say!”

“I… I don’t know what you want me to do,” Phil said, his eyes suddenly focusing on the wall behind her. He felt completely lost here. It was one thing for Rya to have formed ideas about him or his relationships with other people, but it was another entirely to bring in someone like Cassidy, with whom he was _sure_ Rya had never interacted, and to come out of left field with serious accusations of murder. The last thing he wanted was for Rya to be swept up into these delusions, especially when the object of said delusions was supposed to be coming over for dinner. Things were already tense enough without Rya adding conflict of her own, but Phil felt at a loss as to how to combat it and assure her without making her feel crazy.

“I just told you,” she said, her voice lowering almost to a whisper. “ _Believe_ me. _Please_.”

The desperation in her voice struck a chord with Phil, but all he could do was pity her. Still focusing on nothing, on the blank wall, he pulled Rya into a tight embrace. He ran his hands through her hair. She choked back a sob.

His heart ached to think of how difficult Rya had it, to be grappling with these fuzzy memories of cartoon carnage, and to have been abruptly forced into this entirely new world where none of that existed, where it seemed like none of it _had ever_ existed. Phil struggled with it himself, knowing that that time of his life was behind him and yet wasn’t, all at once, a strange symmetry and unfolding of time. It was though he and all of his friends, his family, were tiny components of a kaleidoscope, tumbling perpetually and obliviously, colliding with each other endlessly in an unknown pattern, unable to understand anything that happened around them, over and over.

But to a knowing eye, perhaps things made perfect sense.

After a moment, he pulled away again and looked into her eyes. “You need to eat something. I’ll be back.”

He left her without another word, though she tried to grasp his shirt as he got up. Rya placed her face in her hands. She tried to convince herself that nothing could happen, that even if what Cassidy had said was all true, every word of it, that she had no power to do anything, not in the real world. Just because Cassidy had managed to actually kill her, it was still in a simulated environment, where no consequences could befall her and potentially others.

On the other hand, Rya knew she wasn’t technically supposed to exist. Even the only “real” thing that existed in this world that could possibly hint to her existence was her damn tombstone. The irony of this fact was certainly not lost on her. If Cassidy wanted to dispose of her, she already had a place laid out and ready. So how could she possibly expect Cassidy to run into problems when all of the evidence from the first time should have been long gone, and anyone who had even known Rya had forgotten her?

Her mind drifted to June again. She wasn’t sure what she should be feeling or thinking about her exactly. She was angry, sure, but if Phil didn’t even believe her, she wasn’t quite sure how to go about confronting her — if it would even be smart to do so. What if June was plotting something herself? Who could she trust?

The tears came back, and she had no intention of stopping them; rather, she just let them roll off her face onto her hands. She let the emotions ravage her — she felt sick, dehydrated, sleep-deprived. But most of all she felt betrayed.

 

Phil wandered into the kitchen in a daze, still musing about the things Rya had said. He glanced over to see June, who happened to be sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and reading on her phone. Everything seemed quiet. He tried to fight off the cliched notions that they were simply in the calm before a storm. He hoped that they had already weathered the storm. He shook his head.

“Uh, how long have you been up, June?” he asked, taking a seat across from her. Somehow, he had already forgotten his promises of breakfast for everyone, his appetite long gone. He rubbed at his legs, suddenly aware of the claw marks now hiding underneath his clothes.

“Eh, for a while,” she said flatly, scrolling endlessly on her phone. “I haven’t slept much lately, I suppose.”

Phil nodded slowly. He didn’t want to ask about that. Of course, he knew it was significant. He swallowed hard. “Uh, c-can I… Can I ask you something?”

“Um. Sure, go ahead,” she said, trying her hardest to sound nonchalant and disinterested. And maybe she did. Nobody ever seemed to really suspect her of anything. It was just like with Joel, who trusted her alone in his room, with all of his precious research. What could Phil possibly want?

“Do you, ah…” Phil exhaled, balling his hands tightly into fists, knuckles white. He pressed and massaged the heels of his wrists into his eyes until brightly colored patterns danced into his vision. There was no good way to say it. “June…”

“Yes…?”

He lowered his hands and tried to see her past the haze. “Were you aware of uh… A plot, of some sort? With… Cassidy, perhaps?”

June didn’t look up from her phone so as not to reveal the terror that had seized her at the question. She kept scrolling. Phil immediately felt the embarrassment from his question. He wasn’t sure if he was looking for a reaction in general, but he wanted more than apathy. He was starting to wonder if there was actually a good way to say anything, or if he was just really bad at talking about things. Either seemed likely. Or maybe he just didn’t know how to talk to June. Whatever it was, her lack of engagement made him regret opening his mouth and he was already plotting ways to escape.

“Plot, huh?” June said, finally. She felt her legs trembling a little, but she willed them to stop. She lifted her head up and put her phone down after a moment, unable to ignore the intensity of his stare on her. She grinned at him. “Where would something like that come from exactly?”

“Yeah, sounds pretty crazy, right?” Phil said, smiling back at her. He didn’t notice that her legs started trembling again, harder. He was mostly just happy that he hadn’t carelessly committed an awful social faux paus. “I just… I was just talking to Rya this morning. Think she had a bad dream. Just kinda worried me.”

He slumped down in his seat and casually ran his hands through his hair. June continued to look back at him, but she didn’t respond right away. The wheels were turning. Phil sighed and twisted his body in his chair to glance over at the counter, where he could smell that a nearly full pot of coffee awaited him. Caffeine sounded fantastic to him at that moment, if only for the temporary high, the illusion of control. He got to his feet and plodded over. He rustled through a cabinet and procured a plain mug, helping himself to a decent serving of coffee. He stared at the sugar and various creamers June had left out for anyone else who had wanted them before he decided against them. He turned back to the table. June was still staring at him.

“So… Did you—”

“Yeah,” June said, cutting him off. She wasn’t in any mood for his fumbling. “I have something else to tell you guys though.” It wasn’t long before the smile on her face had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, although it was a simple task, given its lack of sincerity. She held her eye contact with Phil as he sat back down, but then she shifted her eyes to and fro, scanning the room for potential eavesdroppers. “It has to wait until later, though,” she added hastily.

“What? Are you being serious?” Phil asked, tilting his head. The panic set in almost immediately. “Are you— There’s not _really_ something else going on, is there? I—I mean, if it’s _Joel_ , then—”

“Shhh,” she said, placing a finger on her mouth for a second. “It really has to wait, honestly. With Cassidy here, Joel’s going to be distracted anyway.”

“So it _does_ have to do with—”

“ _Shh._ It doesn’t matter. I’m just letting you know now.”

“Oh, gee, thanks,” he deadpanned. “Thanks for the unnecessary dread that totally could’ve waited, y-y’know, until you were ready to tell me about some awful thing that’s been going on.”

“Oh, now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” she said. “Go on, then. We need to finish getting everything ready.”

Phil glared at her from across the table. He drank from his mug. He shuddered, and not at the bitterness of the coffee.

Waiting for answers, waiting for things to just _happen_ felt like it was shaving years off of his life. There was a deep exhaustion within him that no amount of sleep or coffee could cure, that much he knew. All the twisted notions of malaise and fury that had been lying dormant for a few years were probing the surface of his consciousness once more, with a vengeance. The sheer fathoms of these emotions were enough to drown him even during a second of rumination.

More than anything else, he longed for the precious day before Joel had dragged him out of bed to show him his latest and greatest scientific endeavor — and there were lots of days like that. But this past one, the one that delivered Rya from beyond the grave — this was yet another layer chipping away at his psyche, his mental stability… His very sanity, as it were. For so long he had been able to repress everything, for so long he had thought that he had gotten _over_ everything, finally living a life with a routine — and not one stuffed full of inane adventures. The years between the last episode of Bonus Stage and whatever was happening now… He was beginning to feel like _that_ was the dream, _that_ was the nightmare, and that it was all merely an intermission bridging these two horrific acts together. So where was their audience?

Phil wished, vaguely, that he were still in the simulation, if only so things could be wrapped up much, much quicker, whether or not all the loose ends were actually tied neatly. Maybe even a plot hole could save him, some ill-conceived punchline. Maybe that’s what Joel was building towards. A million different options for a million different possible failures unraveled in his mind.

June shook her head, seeing that Phil had effectively bowed out of the discussion. She wondered how deeply he had sunk into his own thoughts. Of course, she was inside her own head, thinking things she knew she couldn’t say. She had not intended to perturb him with her words so much as remind him to be on guard for what was to come. However, she knew Phil well enough to know that what she said probably only served to piss him off. She finally stood up from the table. “I’m gonna go lay down for a little bit. I… I don’t think I’m quite ready for the day just yet.”

Phil continued to glower at her.

June left the kitchen quickly and glided down the hallway, to her bedroom. She dove into her messy pile of blankets immediately and splayed out, inhaling the scent of the fresh sheets. The sun was coming down strongly through her open window, and it filled the room with a soothing natural light as well as a warmth that was pleasant and tranquil. She never allowed herself to entirely forget the comforts of having a room, her own room, one of the reasons being that she was glad that she didn’t have to share one with Joel.

She thought to herself all the horrible things that Joel had said to her the past few days, and how he had berated, belittled, and ignored her in ways that threw salt into old, reopened wounds. She had become accustomed to his ways around other people; in fact, she even thought it was endearing how much everyone could joke with each other, even if it seemed hurtful. But now that Joel had started treating her coldly in private, the only place she felt she could properly express her feelings to him, she didn’t quite know what to do.

Over the past few years, Elly and her had talked together about Joel, about the way he had treated both of them, especially in Bonus Stage. There were no excuses for what he did, though she knew she would keep making them regardless. His carelessness with their feelings on- and off-screen were certainly nothing to be ignored. However, for some reason June had still felt herself drawn to him, enthralled by him. Elly had already given up on her obsession, especially once she had come to terms with her feelings for Phil, and she was willing to move past it in order to focus on this newer relationship. June, however, couldn’t seem to let things lie. After so many years, she had believed that being with Joel was all she had ever needed, despite everything. It was all she had ever known — for better or for worse.

But as she thought of the things she had found in his room, the darker notions from before overtook everything else. Joel had a way of blurring the edges of everything and making it horrible somehow, filling everyone with unfathomable dread. It was the control thing coming back to haunt her again, the idea that Joel had been behind everything always, and that there was nothing anyone could do to stop it. When he acted normally — or at least, _his_ normal — it was easy for her to forget about Joel’s numerous schemes. The way he had been acting the past few days, however — the secrecy, the coldness, the reclusiveness, even — had served as a cold reminder of these truths June had convinced herself of. Perhaps she had scared herself into holding onto this relationship, if only for fear of what might happen to her — and everyone else, perhaps — if she tried to let it go. But even then, she wasn’t sure she could hold herself to such a level of importance, when she wasn’t even sure how much of a blip she made on Joel’s radar, if any at all. But she _had_ to, because why else would he bother? What could he possibly gain?

She had taken some of his paperwork from his room, when he had abandoned their conversation about Rya. She had taken the papers, scrutinized them, and placed them on her desk in plain sight, but no one had come to find it, not even Joel. She knew he had been looking for her, but when he couldn’t immediately find her, he had given up and retired to his lab to continue working. She knew he would not have bothered. He had no reason to pursue her.

The papers laid there perfectly stacked (even though they had been in disarray in his room), and even though she couldn’t read the notes he had scribbled on the separate pieces from where she was, the words were burned into her brain. The papers laid there, ominously waiting. Her skin began to crawl as she thought of their contents. Even the parts that didn’t make sense to her were entering her memory. She tried not to think of it, tried to redirect her thoughts to their guest they were having over tonight, but it was no use.

Perhaps if she burned the paperwork, she could sabotage the whole thing. She knew whatever happened, she could handle the consequences of Joel’s anger or retaliation. The problem was she wasn’t sure how far exactly he had gone with the whole thing, or how easy it would be for him to replicate it. Would it even matter? Would she just be delaying what seemed to be an inevitable leap? She hadn’t dared venture into his lab since the entire incident, especially knowing what it could potentially contain. The terror that seized her just at the very thought of gazing her eyes upon it was absolutely suffocating. She wondered if Elly had thought more of the things she said about Joel, or if she had chosen to repress them as always.  

June steeled herself. She had to do something.

But when she looked up from bed to see Rya standing in her doorway staring at her, she thought her heart was going to explode out of her chest.

“ _Jesus_ , Rya! You can’t do that!” June gasped, clasping a hand over her heart as though she were trying to prevent it from jumping out just as she imagined.

Rya said nothing. June rubbed at her eyes and forced herself to sit up, to look at her.

“Rya…”

“How could you?” Rya said softly.

June felt her legs shaking again. She tried to play it cool, her thoughts still desperately hanging onto other more pressing matters, and laid back down in an attempt to seem casual. “Um, what?”

Rya shook her head, slowly. “No, no. Don’t play with me. Please. You _knew_.”

“Rya…” June said again, though this time it was barely more than a strangled whisper. Her legs were still quaking ridiculously hard. Despite this, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and carefully stood up. Rya just standing there, looming over her, had started to frighten her anyway. “Don’t do this. Please. This isn’t the right time.”

Rya stepped forward, eliminating some of the space between them that had made June feel safe. Trying her hardest to contain herself, to not lose all senses of control over her emotions and the volume of her voice like she had done so many other times, Rya hissed fiercely, “Then when the _fuck will it be_? What time is convenient for you?! I have been _dead_ for years and _now’s_ not a good time? When you _helped_ her?! I didn’t even _know_ her! What kind of twisted assholery is _that_?”

“Rya, please,” June said, working hard to keep her own voice calm. “Don’t talk about this like you know. You don’t know.”

“Oh yeah? Well, Cassidy told me, you asshole! So yeah, I think I _do_ know! I think I’m not as clueless as you would have me believe I am!”

June paused. She folded her arms and stared at Rya suspiciously. “Um, what the hell are you talking about?! What do you mean she _told_ you?”

“I tried to tell Phil and the asshole didn’t believe me! You _have_ to believe me!” Rya yelped. She had reached the point of becoming inconsolable, as she had had way too much time to herself to lay out an undeniable truth in her head.

“Believe _what_ , Rya?! Just spit it out!” June shouted back, although she immediately became keenly aware of the sheer volume of her voice, how she had so quickly let it get out of hand. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to them and bring other people into this. On the other hand, she knew the others knew even less than she did, and could possibly vouch for her. After all, why would they bother taking Rya’s side when the ex-robot had been so clueless all along?

Rya chewed on her bottom lip. She thought she might burst into tears again, which she loathed. She inhaled deeply, letting her lungs fill up with the oxygen she never knew she needed so hopelessly, desperately. She, too, was worried about other people barging in and disrupting her when she had taken so long to mull everything over and piece things together in her own way. She didn’t want the distraction, didn’t want the contradictions she knew she would face. In a borderline monotonic voice, she said quietly, “June, she was in my room last night.”

“Um. _What_.”

“Just let me explain. I just… I don’t know… I don’t know how the hell she would have gotten in. And it didn’t occur to me just how creepy that was. I think I might have even had more of a reaction if we were still in the… The…”

“The simulation?” June completed for her, tentatively. “Uh, Rya, you sure this wasn’t some sort of a—”

“ _It wasn’t a dream!_ ” she yelled. Then she covered her mouth, shocked at strength of her own outburst. She looked around, but as usual, no one appeared to have any sort of reaction to her random bouts of screaming. She wasn’t sure what that quite said about everyone that she had gotten into so many altercations without anyone coming to her aid. Then again, they were the people she knew.

June just shook her head. “I don’t want to believe this,” she said, but Rya looked at her with such hatred in her eyes that she didn’t waste any time in following it up with, “But that doesn’t make it untrue. What else did she say? Cassidy, I mean?”

Rya balled her hands tightly into fists and held them fiercely at her sides, as though that were the only thing keeping her from getting violent. Perhaps Joel had had a point about her instability. “You heard what I said earlier,” she hissed. “You _helped_ her. You helped her _kill_ me. _For real_.”

“Oh, no no, no no, you’ve got this wrong, you have this _really_ wrong, Rya…”

“You said so yourself, you turned me human. You made it actually possible for her to kill me, when it wasn’t before. And why else would that be?”

“But, I… You see, I didn’t know she was going to _kill_ you, Rya,” June said, softly. “I never would have agreed to do it. Andrew, Cassidy… They used me _too!_ You don’t understand… I didn’t know as much as you think I do!”

“You are so full of shit, I can’t even think of a good insult.”

“Rya,” June said, choking through a suffocating tightness in her throat. “Oh, my God… I swear I … It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Rya threw herself against June, knocking her backward onto her bed. “ _Bullshit_!” Rya screamed, falling upon June and clawing at her hair, her face, her body. “ _How the fuck_ could you have _knowingly_ done this and _then,_ _hide this from me! You fucking coward!!_ ”

June gasped, grabbing ahold of Rya’s shoulders and yanking her away, knocking her off-balance and onto the floor. Dazed, June sat up and dusted herself off. Meanwhile, Rya was beyond furious that this was the second time this was happening to her.

“Rya, for God’s sakes. Will you get ahold of yourself?! Let me _explain_!”

Rya stifled a sob and wobbled as she tried to get up, but she was completely disoriented. She gave up after a moment and sat back down on the floor, hugging her knees tightly. “And why should I? You’re just like everyone else…”

“You don’t even _know_ how everyone else _is_ ,” June growled. She was far too offended by Rya’s actions to hone in on the simple fact that there was no rationalizing with Rya or calming her down now, as she had quickly spiraled into hysterics. “Rya, _please!_ I know this is hard! It’s hard for all of us! But you _need_ to realize what this was!”

Rya found it in herself to shoot to her feet again, the indignance giving her more power. She yelled, “Save it and shove it! Get bent! And so on! You never even liked me, June! That’s why you didn’t care! All you cared about was yourself! And nobody even cared about _you!_ ”

June straightened her posture. “That is _not true,_ and you know it!!”

“All you cared about was being the center of attention, so you were willing to do anything to get scraps, a measly little piece of onscreen time, even if it meant killing someone, _really killing_ someone!”

June just kept shaking her head and whispering “no” under her breath, even for a good minute after Rya had finished talking and all the awful things said had settled into the air. She then looked around fearfully, knowing at any moment one of their housemates could walk in and see Rya’s madness unfolding firsthand. Worse yet, she worried that someone would come in and just not care about it, as she too was starting to see this pattern developing. No one was actually willing to confront these messes; rather, they saw the problems and acknowledged them, but continued to cover their ears and look the other way, repressing harder and deeper as if their lives depended on it. They probably did.

June’s eyes darted back and forth across the room, looking for something, anything to derail this hopeless train of thought that Rya was riding. There were other things in June’s mindscape bothering her, things much more current than this, more relevant. Of course, she wanted Rya to have a chance to grieve, to come to terms with things, but there was nothing she could actually say to convince her of anything. Not if what she said was true about Cassidy breaking and entering. It all seemed hopeless. She thought of the others, she thought of Rya, but most of all, she thought of protecting herself. Her heart threatened to escape again, pounding harder, louder.

June said, between panicked breaths, “No one… is even going to believe you… You know that right? You sound… You sound _crazy_.”

Rya groaned. She threw her hands into the air. “That’s _exactly_ what Cassidy said, you spineless moron. That’s why you’re supposed to back me up. Maybe you can at least get Phil on my side. Who’s to say that she’s not planning on annihilating us all tonight at the dinner?”

“No! I don’t care,” June gasped. She went limp and collapsed onto her bed. “She’s right, that no one will believe you. I’m right. No one.” June paused. She narrowed her eyes. A dark bitterness was creeping into her heart once more. “Not even _if_ I say something. Nobody listens to what I say anyway, Rya. You made that clear yourself. And you should… Honestly leave this alone. Nothing worse can even really happen…. Nothing worse than what is already going to, possibly. I don’t know. Please. Stop.”

Rya raised an eyebrow. “I… What? You… You know what? I’m not sure why I thought it was possible for me to depend on you. Even with your half-assed apology back there. Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, you know.”

June bit her lip. She sat up again and searched Rya’s eyes. She found nothing but righteous anger. “Look, I… Know. I know what I said. None of it came out right, anyway. And I never got a chance to really explain that either. But I promise you it wasn’t half-assed.”

“When you heard she was coming,” Rya said, “did you even care, June? Did you even have any sort of visceral reaction? At all?”

June smiled crookedly. “No, Rya. You know why? Because there’s bigger things going on right now! Like I already hinted at! But you don’t care!”

“Wh— She’s gonna _kill_ me again, June! She told me! In no uncertain terms! And why?!”

“It’s not true. I… I want to help you. I just don’t think I can,” June said. Her voice came out strained, the words hurt to say.  

“What? What the hell are you so afraid of?! There’s… I mean, we have Joel and Phil and even Elly! I’m sure there’s some way we can do something, anything… Why are you so afraid of her?!”

“You… You just don’t understand, Rya. I don’t think you ever could. I’m sorry. Truly. I am,” June said. She looked to the floor.

“So you’re just going to sit back and let it happen all over again,” Rya said. June lifted her head and opened her mouth to speak, but Rya cut her off. “When there’s things you could actually do. I-I mean, regardless of whether or not my existence means a damn thing to anyone, to this stupid universe. A dead body is still a dead body, isn’t it? Well, isn’t it?” Rya paused, but June only glared back at her.

They held each other’s gaze for a long time. June broke the staring contest and glanced at the doorway, hoping someone else had materialized there. No one had.

Rya filled the empty space instead, leaving June in a fit of tears. As June watched her leave, more and more questions jumped into her mind. But she wasn’t sure how important any of it was anymore, or if Rya even knew the weight of anything she said. Sure, June might have had an unseen, indirect hand in murdering Rya, but she didn’t have the fully formed picture in front of her. She couldn’t even be sure of Cassidy’s intentions. What would she gain from killing Rya a second time? It didn’t even seem to do much for her the first.

The end of Bonus Stage had become such a blur in June’s mind, and she knew her memories couldn’t be trusted due to how little she played a part in the first place. She laughed to herself, bitterly, thinking of how she and Elly had teamed up to stop Joel from killing himself and hadn’t even succeeded. The fact that both he and Phil were still alive were a mystery and a miracle all in itself. So why should it matter that a robot was somehow alive after being dead, and might possibly be dead again? Would Joel be able to intervene again? Did it even matter anymore?

As Rya stormed out of the room, she wasn’t sure where she would go. But she needed to leave, and quickly. This was it, it seemed. As she passed the kitchen, she saw Phil — the one who didn’t even try to believe her — asleep at the table. She winced to herself. He looked like a wreck. She could tell he hadn’t slept properly in days. On the other hand, June seemed to be stuck inside her own head, with her own version of the story, and wasn’t going to be of any help either. She doubted Elly and Joel’s helpfulness even more. Why should she even bother?

Rya wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. She couldn’t exactly find it in herself to doubt the words of someone who had crawled in through her window in the middle of the night with a knife in her pocket. With that, she walked out the front door and closed it behind her. She needed to be alone, at least for a little while. She wasn’t sure where she would go, but she knew anything had to be better than staying where she was.


	8. Chapter Seven

When the doorbell rang, everyone jumped with a start. Phil, Elly, and Joel had been sitting out on the couch in the living room anxiously awaiting her arrival — simply unable to do anything else but hyperfocus on the fact that she was coming — but like those who stare fearfully at a toaster psyching themselves up for the finished product, the three found themselves entirely caught off guard, even still. There was a strange silence following the sound of the doorbell and its soft echo, as the group paused waiting to see who might spring up to answer. If everyone had been waiting for this, a logical assumption would follow that _someone_ would want to get up. But then there was the other awkward pause following where no one wanted everyone to get up at the same time. Fearful glances were exchanged between the three of them. It was only when an irritated rapping on the door began, forcing everyone to come to terms with the fact that the person on the other side of the door knew they were there, that Phil finally took it upon himself to answer the door of his own house. Joel nodded solemnly, taking Phil’s giving in as a sign of submission, and he put his feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

Phil swung the door open, and his breath caught in his throat. In that split second, a tidal wave of indistinguishable emotion seized him. For a brief moment, he wondered if he had found himself more winded by Cassidy’s arrival than he had Rya’s. In a way, perhaps Cassidy had felt like more of a ghost to him, her presence in his life so strangely ephemeral he couldn’t be sure he really knew her at all.

Cassidy stood impatiently on their doorstep, clutching a purse to herself tightly and exuding an aura that declared she had in fact been waiting hours for someone, _anyone_ to attend to her — though there was also the distinct fire of recognition in her eyes that Phil prayed was a good sign. To Phil, she looked about the same as she always had, but he worried that his memories were deceiving him and that the woman standing in front of him were just a stranger and not a vignette of someone from his past, frozen in time.

To Cassidy, Phil looked like a gaping idiot.

“Hey Cass,” Phil said, though his voice cracked. “You look great.” He didn’t move right away to let her in. For some reason he was temporarily cemented to the floor.

“Right… Thank you,” she said, voice leveled and calm. She peeked over his shoulder at the others she could see sitting inside.

“So… Have you heard the news? I’m assuming you heard the news,” Phil tried, tentatively.

“The good word?” Elly piped up hopefully. She bounced off the couch and crept up from behind Phil to peer over back at Cassidy.

Cassidy stared at them, expectedly. Phil at last stepped aside to let her into the house, and she looked at both Phil and Elly suspiciously. As Phil turned slightly to shut the door, he and Elly exchanged worried glances, unable to quite read the vibe Cassidy was giving off. Things were already shockingly awkward.

“The good word,” Cassidy parroted flatly.

Joel suddenly stood up from the couch and walked over to her, with purpose, as though he were waiting by stage direction for that specific exchange to take place before he could enter. Cassidy stood her ground as he came up and slapped her on the back, playing easily into the role of a distant relative that had no concept of personal space. “Hat boy! It’s been forever.”

Cassidy moved away from his touch as though he had burned her. “Uh, not as long as you think, weirdo,” she sneered. Phil and Elly laughed, albeit nervously, not quite sure what she was getting at, and Cassidy smiled politely back at them. She said, cheerfully, “So! How have you guys been?”

“Ah, y’know,” Phil said, gesturing vaguely. She shot him a weird look. “Um, so anyway. About that thing…”

Joel quaked a little, and even bounced on his heels slightly, the words ready to explode out of him. For the most part up until now, Joel had continued to keep to himself as he had the past week and beyond. So, other than his weird bouts of bossiness during their intense house cleaning and his irreverence during the cat adventure, Joel’s body language presented one of the first signs of excitement he had shown since announcing Cassidy’s arrival in the first place. He seemed to be ready to burst at the seams and spill all his contents everywhere like a bean-filled stuffed animal thrown at a wall. He sputtered, “Yes, there’s — there’s a thing!! There — is absolutely a thing!”

Cassidy backed away and stepped toward the living room, still holding fast onto her purse. “I’m loving the enthusiasm, especially from you, Phil. Um, let me set my things down really quick…”

“Oh, let me get you some water,” Phil said, getting a surge of energy and rushing out of the room, although it was more out of his need to escape the inevitable conversation rather than a show of good hospitality.

To his horror, Cassidy was eager to follow him. She carelessly dropped her purse on the coffee table with a thud and scurried over to his side, leaving the others to watch in fascination. Then Joel and Elly exchanged glances of their own, though neither one of them moved or tried to protest.

“No, it’s cool, I can get it,” Cassidy said, placing her hands on Phil’s shoulders. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Ummm.” He was getting tired of people just randomly touching him, especially women like the ones he knew — no, the ones with which he was _acquainted_ these days. He suppressed the need to shudder, bile rising in his throat.

“Sorry, I really just wanted to get away from Joel for a second,” Cassidy said, smirking. She gently nestled her chin in the crook of Phil’s neck. He stiffened. She sighed wistfully, continuing, “I guess I’ve had all this time, but I wasn’t quite ready.”

“U-um, no one is ever quite… ready, not for Joel,” Phil said woodenly. He couldn’t shake his nerves; as it were, something was insistent on paralyzing him. “Feel free to uh… Wait. Some more. For… him.”

“Well, and I suppose I feel a _little_ bad, considering he invited me and all,” Cassidy chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. The way she spoke so easily, the syrupy sweet words flowing out of her, served as a perfect juxtaposition to Phil’s ungainly stammering. He felt as uncoordinated as a baby deer tumbling straight out of the womb, tottering inelegantly into the unknown. Had he always been this way, or were all his senses just running on overdrive? She inhaled deeply, relishing in the amount of control she momentarily exercised, then at last released her grip on Phil and stepped back. He gasped for air, and felt embarrassed at the fact that he somehow had forgotten to breathe momentarily.

“Yeah, well…” Phil looked away. He hoped a blush wasn’t spreading across his face. “I wouldn’t feel bad. It’s Joel, after all.”

“Right, so what… What is this exciting thing Joel wants to tell me about?” she asked. She glided across the kitchen and promptly began fishing through cabinets for a glass.

Phil didn’t move to help her. He was afraid. He chuckled, but his gawky anxiety was palpable, and he hated it. “Aha, I’d love to ruin the surprise and say, but then you’d have to feign excitement. Joel has been dying to tell you,” he said. The bitterness was entering his tone again, eclipsing any attempt at being friendly. “He’s like a puppy, ready to piss on the floor at any moment. Although it would be hilarious to steal his thunder. He deserves it, even.”

Cassidy burst into laughter. Though it was appropriate, Phil was taken aback nonetheless. She said, “I can’t imagine you could possibly beat around the bush anymore. I mean, I’m sure you can, that’s not an invitation to by any means.” She pulled out a glass from a cabinet just above her head and set it down. She spun around to face him.

Phil shrugged. “Well alright then. Rya’s alive,” he said, the volume and pitch of his voice remaining modulated, pleasant, as though he were talking about anything else. He had become so accustomed to the words that he could no longer be entirely sure of their meaning and origin. “There, I said it.”

“Rya…?” Cassidy whispered. Her mouth hung agape. “ _What?_ ”

Phil was certain that if Cassidy had been holding onto the glass at that moment, she would have dropped it for emphasis. At least, that’s the sort of effect he was going for. But he couldn’t be sure. Suddenly the thought occurred to him that he couldn’t even remember how much Cassidy even knew of Rya at this point. Maybe she didn’t even remember Rya at all.

“You know, she’s, the…” Phil stuttered, racking his brain for memories of Cassidy and Rya. He couldn’t picture the two of them in the same place for some reason, though there had to have been _something_. He thought briefly of how he hadn’t actually seen Rya after their strange conversation in the morning. “W-Well, she was a robot, I guess, but somehow she’s not anymore but—”

“I _know_ who she is, Phil,” she said curtly, her demeanor shifting abruptly. She moved toward the sink and began filling up her glass with tap water.

“Y’know, we have filtered water—”

“That’s fine. But listen. I already know about her. We were on the same show together. You don’t have to patronize me.”

“Oh. Well sorry, jeez.” Phil narrowed his eyes. He briskly walked to fetch a glass of water for himself and went across the kitchen to the fridge. He poured himself a full glass of the aforementioned filtered water and sat down at the kitchen table. He had to do something to busy himself. Just staring at Cassidy from across the room intimidated him, and he didn’t know why. She had never seemed threatening to him before. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t realize I was being—”

“I’m sorry, but could you explain that to me?” she interrogated. “Are you just pulling my leg, here? That doesn’t sound remotely possible. How is she…?”

Phil opened his mouth to speak, but he realized quickly that he had no idea where to start. It didn’t help that now he was even more nervous, Cassidy having made the quick switch from such a cheery, light-hearted attitude to incredulous and demeaning — although he wasn’t sure he could have expected otherwise. Even if Phil hadn’t told Cassidy about Rya first, it seemed as though it would have turned out badly either way. He knew Joel would not have had any tact either. Maybe it was better he was bearing the brunt of it.

He thought again of Rya’s delusional cries for help this morning. He looked around the room suspiciously, in case someone like Rya (or worse, Joel) were waiting around the corner. On the other hand, the fact that no one had come in looking for them made him nervous, also. Things seemed too quiet, suddenly. His skin began to crawl, thinking of Joel’s old schemes, and how the group had a tendency of playing right into them.

“Um, I… don’t really know,” Phil started. “It shouldn’t even be possible, I know. I mean… To be fair, none of this ever was.”

“When did this happen? Why now?” she continued, relentlessly. She took a seat from him across the table, which only reminded Phil of June earlier. June, who had warned him of something else going on entirely, behind the scenes. His chest tightened. He wanted to stare at Cassidy and study this person that Rya had accused of murder, and furthermore he wanted to know what the hell June had hinted at and why she couldn’t have told him this morning.

“Well, uh, i-it’s probably been about a week since she’s been alive,” he said, “but she’s only been conscious for a couple of days. Joel had brought us in after bringing her back initially, but we didn’t exactly respond in a… favorable way, I guess. We uh, pretty much operated on the same level of disbelief you’re giving me right now.”

Cassidy scoffed. “What, was Joel expecting you to throw a damn parade or something? Why should he expect anyone to care? About anything he does?”

Phil inhaled sharply. “Well, while normally I would be inclined to agree with you, I think it is pretty astounding that he, uh… Made someone exist, somehow. In the real world. I mean, we have to give him that at least. R… Right? Is there some sort of silver lining here, maybe?”

Cassidy shook her head. “Okay, I don’t know about any of that. That just raises a bunch of other questions. And wasn’t Rya’s body initially made with corpse flesh anyway? Isn’t she basically a _zombie_? How stable could we expect something like that to be?”

Phil raised an eyebrow at Cassidy’s line of questioning. He was almost impressed. “Um, yeah I dunno, I… Wait, how did you… how _would_ you know about that, anyway?”

“Jeez, Phil. I was in Bonus Stage too, like I said,” Cassidy said. She shrugged, as though that piece of information alone was supposed to assuage any doubts he had about what she was saying. It was, in fact, the second time she had brought that up as a means of making Phil feel stupid.

He rubbed his forehead. “Um… Right.” The way she went on was starting to disorient him and make him somewhat dizzy. They were getting way too into it, too soon. He looked around again, but still no one came to his rescue.

 

Back in the living room, Joel was pacing back and forth. Elly was sitting on the couch, going back and forth between watching him and staring at Cassidy’s purse on the coffee table. She was currently fighting the urge to rifle through her things, if only to give her something to do.

“I don’t understand,” he said aloud, though it was definitely to himself.

“They’ve been gone awhile, yeah,” Elly said, leaning forward on the couch to try and peer around the corner.

Joel halted his endless circling. “It’s not _that_ , Elly. I couldn’t care less about the unresolved sexual tension between Cassidy and your dumb husband.”

Elly started coughing, inexplicably. Joel raised an eyebrow at her. She took a moment to finish and compose herself, but she had no witty comeback prepared. She wiped at her mouth and glared at Joel. He smiled back, innocently.

“No, no, it’s not that.” He looked toward the kitchen, then back down the hallway on the opposite side. “It’s Rya. She wasn’t in her room.”

Elly blinked at him. “Okay? So?”

“So… That’s kind of an issue,” Joel said drily.

“Well, what, is she not in the bathroom or something? Outside? Have you looked? I don’t get it.”

“Have _you_ even seen much of her today, if you’ve seen her at all?” Joel accused.

Elly pondered this for a moment, but then she shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I have. I don’t really know. Why does it matter?! I’m telling you, I don’t get it.”

Joel folded his arms. Elly was almost amused at how comically annoyed he came off, but she knew better than to laugh. He most certainly was not trying to be funny. Things weren’t as they seemed anymore. Though Joel always had the tendency to swing wildly between a childish irreverence and a bitter, angry demeanor, he seemed to be hanging more onto the latter more than anything else anymore. Elly wasn’t sure if it was just the situation itself that called for it so much as layers and years piling themselves onto his shoulders. Joel was hiding more and more underneath his shrewd humor that was becoming rarer and rarer, and cold sarcasm was emerging with a ferocity that was meant to hurt, to cut deeply. Elly wasn’t sure if she should be worried for him or herself.

“I mean, I’m assuming that’s why you invited Cassidy over, right, out of nowhere,” Elly continued. “But she is also her own person so she’s not gonna sit in her room all day, where you left her or something.”

“You idiot, I didn’t _leave_ her anywhere,” he countered. “And you’re wrong. She’s not the _only_ reason. But, yes, it _is_ really anti-climatic to tell someone that I made someone come back to life without the, y’know, proof. Where could she have gone? Does she not know she’s needed?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Elly muttered under her breath.

“I don’t need your sass, ass,” Joel retorted. He plopped down beside her on the couch with a huff. He was still full of impatient energy, as he crossed his legs but still continued to bounce them. “I’m wondering if I should’ve remade that tracking device I had for her in the simulation. Then this crap wouldn’t happen so easily.”

“Tracking device, huh? Are you really sure that she’s lost? When’s the last time you looked, even?” Elly said. She was still incredulous that anything was actually amiss at the current moment; in fact, she herself was becoming increasingly agitated at Joel in response to his own irritation.

“You aren’t a very observant one, are you?” he asked. “After Phil and Hat Boy disappeared. I went to get her. But before that, I had been trying to check in her every once and awhile, and I haven’t seen her all day. I haven’t even been able to find June! It’s like she… It’s like she’s been avoiding me, or something. But she would never do that.”

Elly snorted. Joel furrowed his brow. She looked over at him and smiled as he unfolded his arms and ceased fidgeting for a moment. She said, playfully, “What, you’re being serious?”

“What kind of idiotic question is that? Do you hear any of the words that you say in response to me?”

“Oh, my God,” Elly groaned. “Here we go again. Joel, I don’t wanna have this conversation. Look, you’re a friggin’ asshole. I can’t believe I was ever…” She bit her lip. She thought better of it. “Nevermind. The point is… You’ve been really upsetting June lately, I don’t know if you’ve noticed — or cared, rather. But you probably should. I can’t just keep letting you drag her around, you know.”

“Ha. And what do you expect to do about it, exactly? Besides, I’m pretty sure you have no room to talk about relationships. I mean talk about a _rebound._ ”

Elly inhaled sharply. “I’m going to elect to ignore _that_ one. Anyway, maybe she doesn’t want to be found. By you. How can you be sure that June isn’t hanging out with Rya anyway? They probably just went out for a walk, wanted to get some air or something.”

“Air? What, like they need to breathe? Walks? Like they need to exercise? Well, maybe,” Joel rambled. “Also, what business would June have with Rya? They don’t have any sort of _relationship_. Well. Come to think of it, Rya didn’t really like anybody.”

“I see. Have you tried, like, calling her? With a phone, that you have? Because June also has a phone maybe?” The sarcasm in Elly’s voice was thick. She couldn’t believe how easily Joel could still get under her skin. He was so belligerently clueless, all the time. To say that he played by his own rules would be a massive understatement. He didn’t believe in the rules of his establishment at all; he wasn’t even from the same planet, didn’t speak the language. He operated under his own system entirely, without shame, and didn’t ever bother to learn the rules and regulations of anyone else’s. They weren’t his, so they weren’t important.

“I’ve left ten voicemails,” Joel said, darkly. “Would you like me to leave another, for your sake? Should I tell them it’s from you, you big baby?”

“Well, I think it’s stupid to assume they’re in any trouble. What I said still stands. June probably doesn’t want to talk to you. She’s been in a pretty bad mood lately. Again, because of you. And your whole… Rya relationship comment was pretty messed up, I should say. She only just got reactiv— I mean… You know! Awakened. Whatever.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to comment on that,” Joel sniped. “Rya was trying to get at your husband too, y’know. Despite the fact that those two had basically zero chemistry. Although _you_ two are questionable yourselves. Which is probably my fault. On both accounts, actually.”

“Okay, wow, full offense taken there,” Elly snapped back, throwing her arms up into the air. “I should smack you for that alone! I mean, jeez, Joel. I realize that Rya tried to… Make a pass at Phil. But that’s completely irrelevant — wait, what do you mean, _too_?” Elly placed her hands on her hips and scrutinized him.

“Oh, please,” Joel said, punctuating his sentence with an eye roll. “Refer to previous sexual tension quip. You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Elly grinded her teeth. There were so many different directions she could take with this, but she knew it was all useless to try and argue with him. She knew that no matter what she said, he would have some witty retort or snide comment to throw right back at her effortlessly, as though he was just constantly waiting for her to bring up something even tangentially related to whatever grievance he had. Even if he couldn’t directly counter something she said, he could sweeten the deal by tossing in an unnecessary — but cutting — insult and have her frothing at the mouth before she knew what hit her.

“Your silence is satisfying,” Joel said. He stood up from the couch. He headed for the front door. “I’m gonna look for them. Hopefully neither of them are dead. It would be _really_ headache-inducing if I had to revive one or both of them.” He stopped. He spun around to face Elly. He spat out, “I-I mean, it would be simple as can be, of course, I- I just don’t want to do it.”

Elly looked to the floor. “Yeah,” she said rigidly. “You sure can.”

Without another word, Joel stole Phil’s car keys from off the wall and walked out.

 

Back in the kitchen, Cassidy was still staring Phil down from across the table. Neither of them had even sipped at the water that Phil had been so insistent on procuring. Perhaps Phil feared of being startled into spilling his water all over his crotch again like back at the restaurant. Either way, he felt vaguely trapped, not sure what was supposed to come from this interaction, and not sure why no one else had come in to interrupt. Things were definitely off.  

“So, then, what’s the point, Phil?” Cassidy pressed, delicately tracing her finger around the rim of her glass.

“Huh? Of what?” Even though their conversation had not ceased, and he certainly had not had the ample time to muse on the things she had said, he still felt that her question had shaken him out of some sort of daze.

“She’s got no purpose other than for Joel to have done something.”

“Um. I guess that’s one way to look at it. I don’t uh…” Phil furrowed his brow.

“I’m just saying. Doesn’t that seem a little fishy to you?” Cassidy lifted the glass up and peered at him through the water. She smiled at his distorted features.

“Wh— I’m _always_ guarded about Joel’s crap,” Phil snorted. “Come on. It’s just that nothing else has happened so far, other than the cat thing, but Rya started that—”

“What cat thing? There’s a cat thing?”

Phil was once again caught off-guard, not realizing he had added unnecessary information that needed an extra backstory. “Oh, uh… Yeah! We, uh, just got a cat… Like, we literally just got her _yesterday._ Total spur of the moment, I know, but I figured Rya needed something to uh… I mean, she’s probably around here somewhere. But uh. Anyway. Nothing else has even happened. Aside from you showing up. So I’m not sure how helpful it is to be suspicious. And it’s not like we’ll be able to stop it anyway. Might as well pretend and act like everything’s okay until something goes horribly wrong,” he finished wryly, rolling his eyes.

“Your use of verbal irony isn’t lost on me, Phil,” Cassidy said, a smile spreading across her face. “Sorry. I’m not trying to be annoying. I just find it a little odd.”

“What’s odd, the cat?”

“Uh, no—”

“She does have neurological problems, actually,” he said. “She’s on a couple different medications which she needs to take three times a—”

“Can you get off the cat?! I didn’t mean the cat!”

Phil blinked. He mustered up the strength to sip at his water. “Uh, oh. Why didn’t you say so? What do you mean then?”

“I mean _Rya,_ Phil. Jeez.”

“What _about_ her?”

“I just think it’s… I dunno, _strange_ that Joel brought her back to life, that’s all.”

“Yeah, we’re a little past that, Cass-a-ding-dong. I realize you haven’t quite had the time to process that, nor have you even really met her yet, but still. What are you trying to get at?”

“Hmm. I don’t know. Just thinking out loud. Where is she anyway?”

“I… Yeah, I don’t know, Cassidy,” Phil said. “I saw her this morning, but after that, nothing. I don’t know if she just has been hiding in her room, or if she went out, or…”

“Do you guys just let her loose or are you trying to keep tighter tabs on her? I mean, like I said, doesn’t seem very stable. Doesn’t seem smart.”

“Well, I know it’s strange, but she’s not a child, she… Well. I assume Joel is keeping a watch on her, I guess? Maybe he went to go get her, and that’s what’s taking so long.” Phil started to massage his forehead. He really didn’t want to have to deal with this, not right now. He just wanted some sort of distraction from this increasingly stressful conversation.

On cue, Elly peeked anxiously into the kitchen. “Hey you guys,” she said quietly. “Sorry to interrupt and be a bother. Was just going to get dinner going and all.” There was a slight edge of vexation to her tone, as if Cassidy and Phil were the ones who were the nuisances.

Both Phil and Cassidy smiled at her, though their expressions told different stories: Phil’s eyes were weary, Cassidy’s bright.

“Oh, we’ll get out of your way then,” Cassidy said. “Unless you’d like some help, maybe?”

“Ah, no thanks,” Elly said. Suddenly flustered, all traces of impatience gone from her, she hid her face. “Um, but yeah. I… You guys were talking about _her_ , right?” She wanted to drop a hint without being obvious in case she was wrong; indeed, _she_ didn’t want to be the one to break the news, by any means.

“What, _Rya_?” Cassidy spat the name out. It was supposed to be more of a joke; after all, she knew she wasn’t yet supposed to _know_ quite yet. However, it came out more like a curse, and Phil and Elly reacted accordingly. They gave each other frightened glances before looking back to Cassidy for more, wondering what it was about Rya that got under her skin in such a way. “Um…”

“Aahh, um, yes,” Elly faltered. She was still walking on eggshells, not quite sure what exactly had been communicated. She refused to be the one who spilled the beans, and she vaguely worried also what sort of things the two had been talking about in her absence. “Yeah, Joel can’t find… Her. Uh, June… Yeah, uh.” Phil and Cassidy stared at her, strangely. Elly added quickly, “But I think he’s going to actually explode if he can’t tell you about everything himself, so you’d better do that.”

Cassidy looked over at Phil, who hadn’t taken his eyes off Elly. His eyes pleaded to Elly, begging her not to leave him alone with Cassidy. Elly didn’t seem to receive this message, or if she did, she didn’t comprehend its contents. She had her own agenda to attend to, even if it appeared futile. She ambled over to her husband and planted a timid kiss on his cheek. He continued to stare past her, toward the living room. He feared what lay beyond the kitchen. He didn’t want to talk to Cassidy alone any longer. Reluctantly, and with slow, deliberate movements, Phil meandered over, Cassidy following close behind.

For perhaps the first time in his life, Phil was relieved to see Joel sitting in his living room.

“ _There_ you guys are!” Joel shouted, standing up from the couch.

“Yeah,” Phil said. “We’ve, like, been here. In the kitchen. But yeah.”

“Well, guess what!” Joel said. “I was halfway out the door when June _finally_ decided to respond to me. I was going to go out and look for the damn woman and my ‘Latest and Greatest,’ and right when I get outside, I _finally_ get a response from her. Can you believe her?”

“Yeaah… What?” Phil looked around, like he was just now registering that there was no one else but Joel in the room. “Latest and Gr — people were… Gone. Huh? Wait, where is she? I mean… Uh. They, I guess? What is even going on?”

Cassidy leaned over to Phil, muttering, “Why does he always go on like we know what he’s talking about?”

Joel looked at Cassidy and jumped, as though he just remembered she was there. “ _Rya_!” he yelled. He started waving his arms. He gestured some more behind him. Cassidy only squinted at him, helplessly, as if to say, “ _No, that’s not me_.” Joel glared at her. He dropped his arms to his sides.

“Okay. What’s… What about her?” Cassidy said.

Joel opened his mouth to speak, and then almost immediately crammed his fist in his mouth as if that were the only way to stop the words from spilling out, like he had no control over them otherwise.

“Are you feeling alright?” Phil questioned, though it was clear that he wasn’t asking out of concern rather than out of annoyance at the lack of explanation for all the antics.

Joel tentatively removed his fist and wiped it casually on his pants. “I just made an executive decision _not_ to tell her until dinner. That’s it. Yeah. I’m not doing it until we get involved people here! That’s, uh, final… The final frontier.”

Phil closed his eyes. He imagined himself far, far away, on a deserted island, by himself. He thought of how peaceful it would be in complete isolation in such a beautiful, stereotypically tropical place. He filled the picture with different flora and fauna, ones that would typically inhabit such a place. Then memories of ending up on a deserted island with Cassidy as a part of Joel’s nefarious, underhanded schemes forcefully entered, destroying his mental escape. Maybe he never actually got off that cruise ship. He bit his lip, hard. He tasted blood.

There was another crash in the kitchen, and Elly’s frantic cursing swiftly following. Her bubbliness was apparently no match for her unending clumsiness.

Phil sighed deeply. “Let me go help her out, jeez…”

Cassidy stepped forward. “No, no. Let me. I insist.”

Before Phil could protest, she ducked away and walked briskly back over to the kitchen. Phil was almost jealous that she could escape from Joel so easily. He wondered why he didn’t seem capable of it.

“That was some hustle she did there. Now I guess it’s just you and me, buddy,” Joel said gleefully, as if he read Phil’s thoughts — and then completely misinterpreted them.

Phil blinked. “So… _How_ exactly do you lose your girlfriend _and_ an undead not-robot in the same afternoon?” he deadpanned. “I mean, _okay_. That’s weird, but whatever.”

“That’s not important,” Joel said, almost too quickly, as though he knew and had been waiting for that exact response. “The important thing is what’s to come!”

“Wh— Oh, there’s more?” Phil asked, though he was exasperated. His words seemed to always come out alongside heavy sighs, forever anticipating the next horrible move in Joel’s alleged canonical chess game. Phil vaguely remembered June’s words from this morning, but couldn’t exactly remember what the sentiment behind it was. All he knew was that he had gotten so frustrated with her that he had to take an angry power nap on the kitchen table just to avoid thinking about it anymore. He asked, “Can you just tell me now, so I don’t have to be anxious about it until then? …A-and then afterward, and then always, for the rest of time?”

Joel laughed, wholeheartedly. “Oh, Phil,” he said, grasping loosely onto his friend’s shoulders. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Yeah, I really don’t. I really feel like I don’t know anything about anything,” Phil said. “You’re giving me stomach ulcers with all of this.” Then the questions started coming, rapid-fire. “I-I mean, what are we supposed to do? And where are June and Rya? Why is Cassidy still here? I think you started to answer me about the former, or maybe thought you did, but… Wait, no. No, you didn’t actually tell me.”

“Will you shut up for a second? Jeez.”

“But what about June and Rya?!” Phil pleaded.

“What _about_ them?”

“ _Where are they?!_ ”

“Oh, right. _That,_ ” Joel said. “Well, like I said, I was halfway out the door and all. Finally June answered her damn phone and said that the two of them were ‘ _on a walk_?’ And that I should ‘ _turn back?_ ’” Joel was normally apt to add his own air quotes for emphasis, and this time proved to be no different. “Anyway, I told her that a little while after I got back, I was gonna be back down in the lab until dinner and for her to leave me alone until then. Y’know. For whenever she decided to bring Rya back to me.”

“Uh… Okay. Awesome. That was… really necessary,” Phil said, sarcastically. “You definitely should give me more details, because I’m not sure I’m understanding.”

“Y’know, why is that such a prevalent turn of phrase in our vernacular? ‘Down in the lab?’ Like, labs can be upstairs.”

“Y… _You’re_ the one who built it downstairs, Joel,” Phil said flatly.

“Well yeah, because you wouldn’t let me put it in your room, jerkface. But I just mean in general. I’m saying, like, you don’t hear anyone say _‘up in the lab_.’ It sounds weird. It sounds weird even just hearing it out of my own mouth. Like. Can you imagine?”

“Sure. I… I think I’m gonna lay down,” Phil said.

“Suit yourself. Anyway, what I said to June applies to you as well. Don’t go… _Down_ into the lab.” Joel chuckled lightly to himself, then dropped the act. “But seriously. Don’t do it.”

“Um. Okay. I don’t care, but okay.”

“I mean it, Phyllis.” Joel stared at Phil, intensely.

Phil rolled his eyes in response, refusing to be intimidated by his obnoxious roommate. “ _Spare_ me.”

Before Joel could get another word in, Phil turned on his heel and went back to the kitchen.


	9. Chapter Eight

At dinner, Phil finally relaxed. The countless knots in his stomach at last seemed to be coming undone as he found himself surrounded by the people he knew he cared about, regardless of the bizarre history between all of them. Although things had been tense and strange and weird and uncomfortable, nobody was hurt. That was the important part. From his seat at the table, he took stock of the room before him as Joel had at last crawled out of his laboratory to play games on his phone and Elly and June rushed about, in and out of the kitchen to finish setting up the table, all while he knew Cassidy was finishing freshening herself up in the bathroom. For a precious moment, Phil felt pleasantly calm.

And then he realized.

“Where’s Rya?” Phil asked, a hint of panic evident in his voice.

Elly paused, a full table’s worth of heavy plates in her arms. She shook her head slowly, and began setting the plates down one by one. “I… dunno. Try her room?”

“I…” Phil’s mouth felt dry. For all the talking he did about Rya, for the life of him he couldn’t remember if he had seen her after he had left her bedroom that morning. That seemed so long ago, now; in fact, he could barely remember if that had actually happened the previous morning. She had been so terrified, so delusional, and he hadn’t even checked on her afterward because he had become so caught up in the preparations for everything, as well as his own emotions and anxieties about the company. He retraced his steps in his mind. He even thought maybe he had seen her, had some other sort of conversation with her, or even just acknowledged her in passing. He had to have, hadn’t he?

He stood up.

June swept in and placed her hands on Phil’s shoulders. She gently eased him down back into his chair. “Don’t worry about it, babe! I… just checked on her.”

Phil cringed. “Babe,” he muttered to himself. He looked up at her and squinted, studying her expression. She was just as cheerful as ever. He couldn’t remember what she was normally like, and he saw her pretty much every day of his life. This must be it. Or else she was just putting on a happy face for company, but who didn’t do that? He opened his mouth to speak again, but found that he had effectively distracted himself completely.

“She’s not feeling well,” June went on, taking a seat across from Phil. She combed fingers through her hair, patted it down. In that moment, she had taken on the appearance of a well-meaning housewife who was beaming with pride because she had just completed all of her chores for the day. She folded her hands together and smiled politely at him, as though what she said was it, that was that, and there was nothing more to it. Internally, however, she was expecting to have to battle Phil on this. He could get exasperated easily, but she knew also that he had a nasty habit of not dropping something, especially when she needed it to be dropped.

“She _has_ been kinda down,” Elly piped up, placing down the silverware. Elly herself had not seen much of Rya lately, but couldn’t bring herself to be phased by it, even despite Joel’s earlier strangeness. Either way, she trusted June’s judgment knowing she had to have been the last one to actually see Rya. “I think she’s just really drained. Need to give her some more time, y’know?”

June sighed deeply, without quite meaning to. Nobody took notice.

“Yeah, whatever, Phil,” Joel said, waltzing over and pulling the chair out at the head of the table, where he always made it a point to sit. He propped his legs up, and Phil scoffed at him. “It’s neither here nor there. Or somewhere else. What does it matter?”

Phil covered his face as he felt one of his eyes begin to twitch uncontrollably. “Well, _Joel_ , wasn’t that the whole reason you invited Cass over? Shouldn’t her whereabouts be _kind_ of important?”

“Jeez, you make it sound like I have an ulterior motive for everything,” Joel spat. He stretched his arms and then let them rest at the base of his neck.

As Phil watched Joel settle into what he thought was the most irritatingly lackadaisical, _douchiest_ way to sit, hatred boiled up inside him once more. That same unadulterated hatred he had felt many times before in the past. His heavy, unsettled nerves hadn’t wrenched themselves back into his body, but things still weren’t right, things hadn’t _been_ right from the start, even if he had his few moments of peace in the war that raged onward internally. His eyes darted from Joel, to June across from him, and finally to Elly who was starting to bring out the various dinner dishes prepared special for tonight — the salads, the spaghetti, the garlic bread. When both his eyes and nose recognized the food, his stomach dropped. He winced, realizing that he had not had a proper appetite since Rya had arrived, and it only seemed to be getting worse with each passing day.

Phil croaked, “So, is— is she just not coming to dinner, or…? Should I check on her? I mean, what’s going on?”

A dark cloud passed over June’s face. Within another second, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. Phil couldn’t even be sure he had detected any change in the first place. June unfolded her hands and cleared her throat. “I told you,” she said, voice leveled and steady, “she’s not feeling well. She’ll be okay, though. I mean, I’m not really sure how well her body is holding up exactly with all of the… I dunno, stuff.”

Phil squinted. “Stuff,” he repeated dully. He smacked his forehead, his thoughts becoming a mess of fog again. “I can’t even remember if she’s even properly eaten today or not. Should I have been paying attention to that? I… I don’t…”

“Phil, _relax_ ,” Elly said, cutting him off.

“Yeah, you’re being annoying,” Joel piped in. He wasn’t engaged in chat so much as he was in idly scrolling through his phone, but he took any chance he could to make a jab at his easily agitated roommate.

Phil leaned forward to cradle his face in his hands and heaved yet another heavy sigh. In fact, he exhaled so hard he almost face-planted onto the table. He kinda wanted to, if only to be dramatic.

“Give me a break, Phil. I’m sure she’ll be here any minute,” Joel continued. “Y’know, on her own accord, or whatever.” He finally looked up from his phone, and then glanced over at June, expectantly.

June bared her teeth at Joel in a semblance of a smile.

* * *

Meanwhile, Rya was cursing to herself, rubbing her arms frantically, walking aimlessly into the night. She couldn’t believe how easily she had gotten herself lost in such a small town. She wondered if it had always gotten so cold at night, or if she would have even been able to notice it before. Were different temperatures even a thing in the simulation? Would she have been able to register them, react to them? Was that possible? The manifestations of everyone else real in the simulation seemed to have real reactions to things. Did she? Or did she just have false memories of these things? But even if they were just false memories, did it matter if they still _felt_ real?

She stopped for a moment and tried to assess where she was. After the confrontation with June, she was quick to rush out, as though she knew exactly where she was going to go. Except she didn’t exactly know where anything was. The places she was used to seeing didn’t exist, for the most part. She had only been outside a handful of times since her reawakening. Once she realized she didn’t quite have an escape plan, she had put herself on autopilot and just kept going. It was only after it started to get dark that she realized that no one had come after her, she didn’t know where she was, or even how to get home.

She kept trying to figure things out, though, if only so she could orient herself in this town, on this planet. She didn’t want to actually _be_ home yet, as she was still upset with everyone for not understanding, not helping.

As she walked through the night, her eyes fell upon a familiar place. The mere fact that she recognized it alone filled her heart with joy at a sense of belonging. She walked toward it, completely forgetting about all the conversations that transpired within its boundaries.

In fact, she smiled wanly when she came upon the cemetery gates. She knew that this was far from the best place to spend her time, especially alone. But it was important to her regardless, just knowing that she had been there _recently_ , in this current life of hers, and she had spent actual, tangible time there. If anything else, she could at least be comforted by the fact that she could most likely get herself back home from here, just knowing where the cemetery was in relation to the house.

She hesitated for but a mere moment before she roughly shook the gates open. The gate groaned in response, as she expected. It was a comforting sound if only because it was so corporeal to her. It made sense, the way that age had worn this gate down to a weak, whiny barrier between the living and the… well, the markers for the deceased. To her it symbolized a natural progression of things, a visible end to something she could actually envision as having a beginning. Of course, she knew how much unlike her it was. She had a start of some sort, many deactivations in between, another start, an abrupt end, and… A _new-_ new start?

Rya scowled to herself and pushed the gate forward further inside. The air had the same crisp quality it had the first time she came here with Phil, and she actually had the clarity of mind to notice and appreciate it now. She continued to blatantly ignore the nagging recollections of the things that occurred between them that day, and then the following argument between her and Elly. She kept going, further and further in, toward she had reached the center where a recognizable group of prominent headstones stood.

She plopped herself down into the cool earth, between graves, without another thought. She took deep, deliberate breaths, coming to terms with the fact that all of her nonstop walking had winded her quite a bit. All her other bodily needs were catching up to her as well, much to her chagrin. She couldn’t believe that by ignoring all of them for a time would cause them to come back with an awful vengeance. What sort of punishment was this? Her legs ached, her stomach fiercely growled, and her head was even starting to pound from lack of hydration. Had she utterly destroyed herself, with just a few measly hours of walking? She grumbled to herself and began patting the ground around her to feel its texture.

She stopped suddenly and tilted her head at the marble headstone on the left side of her. She leaned forward, her hair just barely touching the ground — not that she would have noticed or cared.

“Oh yeah, this was Kate’s grave, wasn’t it?” she asked herself. “Phil’s ex— wait, no. Joel’s sister. Yeah. That.”

She scooted over and patted at the earth below. It still felt exceptionally soft beneath her hands. She stared a little harder at the grave, scrutinizing what she could in the darkness, perhaps trying to strain significance out of the minute details. She felt nothing. _Should_ she feel something?

“I wonder why Joel didn’t just bring _her_ back to life,” she wondered aloud. “You’d think there would be more of a point to that… Unless…”

She looked up from the grave, into more uncertain darkness, a faint outline of a thought entering her brain, some shadow of a realization. Since she had been brought back to life, Joel had been all but absent. Of course here was the dinner that was supposed to be going on — which, of course, she did not forget about — which made it even weirder to her that no one had come looking for her after all this time. The Joel she had awakened to had appeared vastly different than the one she knew, and in a way that was different than everyone else. She had already given up on attempting to decipher just why he had done what he did, chalking it up to something she would just have no hope of understanding, it being nothing more than a philosophical circle-jerk of Joel’s own creation. But maybe it was something she should’ve spent more time.

Rya glanced back down at the tombstone, running her fingers along it. “Oh, my God,” she mumbled. “What if I was just some sort of… Test…?”

Behind her, leaves cracked. She rose to her feet, slowly, her blood cold. In a split second, all of her previous thoughts had tumbled out immediately, with no hope of being explored any further. Rya became suddenly aware of her heartbeat, though it wasn’t quite pounding yet.  

“Somehow, I knew I’d find you here.”

Rya spun around on her heel toward the voice, but she wobbled and nearly fell onto the ground. Although her body was reacting already, preparing for a flight response, she found that she wasn’t immediately afraid so much as agitated by people just popping up out of nowhere and engaging her in draining conversations. However, once she processed the sounds she heard and identified the voice as male, a knowing chill ran down her spine.

She peered into the shroud of darkness, waiting for him to appear. In another moment he came out, snapping even more leaves and twigs underfoot. His purposeful stride made it seem as though he delighted in breaking up the dead further, making them nearly unrecognizable from their original forms. Rya’s eyes adjusted quickly and identified the shape of his body. The closer he got, the more he towered over her. She didn’t remember this person doing that before, being so tall, occupying so much space.

“Andrew,” she breathed, barely audible.

“I’m glad you still remember me,” he said. He came even closer, impossibly close. The space between them disappeared quickly, as though the entire world was purposefully shifting them together.

Rya’s chest felt compressed. She was suffocated. “I… How did you find me here? Where have you been?” She couldn’t even find it in herself to banter, as she knew there could be no good reason for him to skulk around a cemetery late at night. It didn’t bode so well for herself either.

“Does it matter? I’ve been around,” he said, a twisted grin creeping across his face. “Pretty weird, seeing you here, in the real world.”

“I’ll be honest,” Rya said, a momentary burst of courage igniting inside of her. “I didn’t think you were real yourself.”

Andrew stepped back. He gave her a once-over. She stared hard back at him, the flames coursing through her still, or perhaps it was adrenaline rather than pluckiness. Or maybe it was her hatred for him that fueled her. After a painful moment, with the only other sound being the soft whistle of wind through the leaves, Andrew let out a small chuckle.

“I’m not gonna ask. You can’t possibly have anything inside that fake brain of yours,” he said finally. “I mean, Jesus. How are you even functioning right now? What’s holding you together?”

Rya huffed. “That’s ironic coming from the likes of you, you drooling moron.” She was pleased that even when she was terrified, she could roll out with insults. Business as usual. “Have you taken a biology class? That might give you a clue as to how everything works inside here.”

Andrew snarled. “Like you would know a damn thing about that. Like what… _you_ are has anything to do with any rational fields of science.” He folded his arms impatiently. “I don’t even know why I’m wasting my breath,” he said. “I’m not here to _chat._ I don’t have _anything_ to say to you, I’m just trying to do my fucking job. Hell, I don’t know why Cassidy wasted so much of her time trying to instill fear of death in you when you don’t even understand what it means to be alive in the first place.”

“I can’t believe… Wait a frickin’ second. I thought Cassidy said she didn’t know where you were,” Rya said, eyeing him suspiciously. Cassidy had said so many things, she wasn’t sure where to begin. If she lied (or at least exaggerated) about Andrew’s whereabouts, or whether or not he was involved in her schemes, who knew what else she had twisted? She should have known that from the start, but once again, she was brought to question her own memories and try to match them against someone else’s words. With no one to trust, not even herself, she was running out of options.

“Aha. She said that, did she? What, and spoil the surprise?” Andrew said. He smirked for a second, before his expression darkened and he returned to business. “I can’t tell you why she said anything. Not only because I don’t want to, but because it’s not my business. Nor do I care. Like I said, I’m not gonna waste any more time on this than I have to. I’m not getting paid to coax a dramatic monologue from you before I waste your pathetic body that shouldn’t even _exist_. I mean, damn, when you think of it that way, I’m doing you a favor. I’m doing _everyone_ a favor.”

“Then just do what you’re here to do, then!” Rya cried, tears filling up her eyes yet again. “Go ahead, stab me. Stab me, dispose of me, whatever the hell you’re gonna do! There’s nothing _left for me!_ ”

“Well, if you insist,” Andrew chuckled. He moved closer.

Though the tears were spilling out of her once more, blurring her vision and soaking her face, even stinging from the cold breeze — Rya shook her head and kept going, in spite of herself. “I don’t even… I can’t deal with all of this anymore. It’s too much. You said it yourself, I don’t understand what it means to be alive. So far, anyway, it’s just been… It’s just been more of you assholes! Not caring about anything but yourselves! Is that all that humanity is?” She gritted her teeth, rage overtaking her fear again in a comfortingly familiar way. Andrew had stopped in his tracks, though he was not sure why; he was fascinated, almost entranced by the words pouring out by someone who was virtually a stranger to him. Meanwhile, Rya let the anger course through her, empower her. “I mean, what is this, even? Just your final way of twisting the knife in? Getting back at Phil? Is _that_ it?”

Andrew flinched at the name. “Don’t you fucking start. Don’t start spouting shit you don’t understand—”

“I mean, what stakes would you even have in this?! Elly’s _married_ to the loser, you know. How the hell does that feel, knowing you lost _to that?_ And here you are, doing the dirty work of some shady fuck that no one even really knows anything about because she was just as boring and unassuming as anyone else on the outside, and you’re stuck trying to kill wh- whatever I am, some- some sorta failed science experiment — what the _fuck_ are you even doing?!”

Andrew growled deeply in a way that almost sounded animalistic. “Okay, okay, that’s _enough!_ That’s _enough_ out of you!”

He stepped forward again, preparing himself for a chase should Rya try to make a mad dash away. To his surprise, she stepped defiantly toward him. He stumbled backwards, his hardiness dissipating for one crucial moment, and Rya took the chance to throw her body against him with all her might. He toppled over, cursing the whole way. Rya thought of her previous encounters with Joel and June, and how useless her body seemed then. She knew this time was different, however; she knew her body was motivated also by fear, not just anger alone. She fell onto him, and didn’t allow herself to hold back. She punched at him, she clawed at him, she did all she could in her strange position on top of him, knowing that this moment really was do or die, that she herself could soon be dead if she didn’t put her everything into this moment.

“You — _fucking_ — _useless_ —” Andrew sputtered. He wriggled under her, trying to get some sort of leverage, as she seemed to have him effectively pinned.

He threw his arms out, limbs Rya that had ignored in her blind attacking, and grabbed onto both of her wrists. He dug his nails into her as he strengthened his grip despite her flailing, she whimpered in response. She went limp for a moment. He yanked, pulling her closer to him, and then released one of her wrists to free up one of his own to sloppily throw a fist across her face. He freed his other arm to punch back more tightly the other way, this time in her ear, causing it to ring painfully. She yelped and clutched her ear, hating herself for being disabled so quickly. Not only did his strength frighten her, but she couldn’t believe she was being overpowered again so easily. She didn’t know anything about Andrew either, but was he actually that powerful? Was she really that weak? Was there even a point in trying to fight back anymore? What was the point?

Following the dizzying strikes to the face, Andrew had the opportunity to toss her off, having successfully incapacitated her for the moment. She didn’t even resist; she flopped onto her back, onto the cold ground.

Andrew rolled onto his knees, stood up as though he had simply stumbled, without injury, on a leisurely stroll. “Just deal with it, Rya. You’re completely powerless,” he said. He laughed cruelly.

If Rya had not been gasping for air anyway, she would have done so just at his words. They hit her harder than she could have expected. Her heart sank. Memories were swarming to the forefront of her mind again, but as always, she couldn’t make sense of any of them. _Useless_. _Powerless._ There was no nerve left in her, if she even had any to begin with. Her entire life had been a lie, her whole existence pointless. The whole time she had been at the mercy of her creator, at the mercy of the people she couldn’t even call her friends, not now.

She stared straight up into the black firmament, her vision blurring all the stars in the sky together into one twisted constellation. Perhaps it foretold her destruction. Andrew stepped into her line of sight, though he was but a dark silhouette again to her. She knew, though — perhaps through instinct, maybe from her own anecdotal evidence — that he was pulling out a knife. She feared she would eat her words.

Her dream was coming back again, although this time the world was not bloody oranges and yellows; it was all inky blacks and grays, and this along with her dizziness was making it hard to make out any definitive shape — though the silhouette Andrew’s face hidden in his hoodie was a perfect parallel to the Cloaked Figure, who she knew now was Cassidy. Maybe Cassidy had lied, maybe it had been Andrew all along? Though why she would lie, Rya couldn’t think of a reason. Not in that moment, when every ticking second seemed to have slowed to crawl, so she could feel every murmur of her heart and identify each of Andrew’s movements as if she were watching it happen frame by frame.

The irony hit her that everyone had just expected her to want to viciously inflict carnage upon the real world, when really all she had wanted was to be normal. But the truth was she didn’t know what normal even was, nor did the people she had known her entire short life. And these people who had expected the worst out of her, who had treated her like a child ignorant of life’s trials and tribulations — these were the people who were violent toward her, whether it was physical or otherwise.

She tried to will herself to roll away, to do anything, but her body didn’t seem connected to her impulses, her thoughts, the things she felt she were screaming at herself. Instead, she felt glued to the cold earth, where she was certain she would stay lying, this time, knowing she already had a grave marked up for her.

Andrew brought the knife down, and the world was black again.

* * *

Cassidy, as attentive and lively as ever, floated into the dining room and seated herself at the table across from Elly, who had seated herself next to Phil. Everyone looked to her, rapt.

“Oh, my gosh. This is great! I’m so glad you’ve managed to get us all together,” Cassidy said, gesturing in Joel’s direction, though she wasn’t even sure he was paying attention. Either way, she didn’t particularly care whether or not he acknowledged the compliment.

As if struck suddenly by a stroke of groundbreaking genius, Joel looked up from his phone. He squinted. He at last removed his feet from the table, set his phone down and settled into his chair as one normally would for a family dinner. Much like a dinner in a notoriously dysfunctional family, however, the pause was tense. After clearing his throat, he said flatly, “Well, you’re the only one who doesn’t live here, so I should think it wouldn’t be that difficult.”

Phil slowly rested his face in his palms.

Cassidy tried not to let it get to her, and let it roll off her back as a cat bounces back from a seemingly treacherous fall. She grinned hard, and she did it aggressively. “Well, I mean how often does everyone even sit down to dinner these days?” She didn’t wait for a smarmy response. “Anyway, what was that _thing_ you were gonna show me?” she asked, through gritted teeth.

Joel leaned forward. Though he looked angry, there was a distinct fire of excitement in his eyes. It was clear he was more than biting at the bit to cut right to the chase, to just get to where he wanted to go, to achieve his wildest fantasies and then some — but things weren’t going his way as they usually did. As he stared Cassidy down, he thought over all the reasons he had brought her here, and how there were other various factors not going right.

It was coming back to him, how things had been like this with her in the past. He ignored her weird insertion into the simulation and brought her back with him, so Phil could potentially shake off his desperation for Elly and move the hell on with his life — and _that_ didn’t work. He was already upset that his plot with Rya didn’t work either. Phil’s bitterness had run so deeply that Phil couldn’t remove himself from the one constant in his life, the obsession over Elly. It wasn’t even her anymore anyway; of course, it was the idealization of her, and Phil could continue to pull excuses out like he were a street performer yanking yards and yards of handkerchiefs out of questionable orifices. At that time, Phil had no clue what Elly was even _like_ anymore. He had steeped himself in his jealousy over Joel, the fact that it was Joel she wanted, not him. Then Phil got so used to women not liking him, treating him poorly. Rya, likewise, was just another part of that, even if that wasn’t Joel’s intention in the first place. Even though it was Phil she was supposed to want, it was Phil she loathed the most, insulted the most. So when Cassidy fell into Joel’s lap in a random underwater college in the middle of the universe in a simulated world of his own creation, it was great news for him, it was like he had planned it down to the last detail… Up until she fell flat on her face, because it had been far too late to crack Phil’s resistance. In that way, Cassidy had failed Joel. He couldn’t forget that. And now, she was somehow screwing _this_ up. It was almost comical. He wanted to strangle her.

“Yes,” Joel said, clasping his hands together, “There’s a thing. There’s a couple of things. Unfortunately, it is not in my power to show you that quite yet.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “I hate this.”

“Well, you can thank _June_ for this painful development,” Joel said bluntly. June looked up at this namedrop, but he didn’t even glance at her; rather, he kept his eyes trained on Cassidy, who was equally inclined to stare right back at him.

“Well, you can either shit or get off the pot, I imagine,” Phil muttered under his breath.  

Elly kicked him.

“That’s right, _June_!” Cassidy chirped, acting as though she couldn’t read Joel’s bitter tone, as if she didn’t hear Phil’s yelp of pain. If anything, she was merely giving him a taste of his own medicine, taking a page out of his own book — not that he would have noticed either way. Cassidy at last turned her head to June, as though she only just noticed her presence. They locked eyes for a moment, before June quickly averted her gaze. “I almost forgot you were here!”

June narrowed her eyes. “It’s fine. It happens.”

“I don’t even think I heard you come in,” Cassidy continued. “Like you’re a ghost or something. I mean, wow. We haven’t even really talked!”

June stood up from the table. “Ya know… I’m actually gonna go check on that _thing_. I think that would probably be best.”

Phil started to stand as well, but June shook her head quickly. Something about her aura made him swift to obey her. When Joel stood up, however, June knew she was powerless to stop him.

 

As the two walked silently throughout the house, it occurred to June that the two of them had no absolutely no reason to trust each other. Maybe they had never had a reason to in the first place, but certainly not due to the numerous events that had been unfolding over the past week or so. It was almost an amusing thought, to think that both of them could be alone for a moment at last, yet it was obvious that neither of them really wanted to be there, lest one of them accidentally reveal too much to the other. June was dying to know what was going through Joel’s head, but at the same time, she stubbornly refused to divulge anything herself. Likewise, Joel was having similar thoughts. Within a few seconds both of them had come to the conclusion that they had reached an impossible impasse before anything was even asked of each other.

June placed her quaking hand on the doorknob to Rya’s room as Joel stood behind her, anxiously breathing down her neck. She paused and turned to Joel, beads of sweat forming on the nape of her neck. “I can handle this, you know,” she said quietly. “You might not like what you see.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Joel placed his hand over hers and turned the doorknob. He swung open the door.

The two of them stared at the empty room before them for a moment, before Joel stepped inside. June tiptoed in carefully behind him, as if she were stepping into a crime scene. Joel examined the open window, the bed full of messy sheets. Fiercely, he swiped a crumpled piece of paper off the bed. June flinched.

“Where did Rya get this?” Joel laughed. He unraveled the paper carelessly, tearing it in places. “And where did she get the pens to write this suicide note with?”

He looked over at June and smiled smugly.

“A… A suicide note?” June breathed.

Meanwhile, her hands were quaking, hard. It had been a mere few hours since she had had a gun held up to her head.

* * *

Earlier, after Rya had stormed out of her room in tears, June had taken a moment to compose herself, a self-righteous anger and defensiveness coursing through her. But she worried, too. She had known that Rya would be up to no good, and it certainly did not serve her well to wander off on her own. But still, she couldn’t seem to get it together to go after her, not when she had all these other things on her mind. She had even made a half-assed attempt earlier, but when Elly had poked her head out of her bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, June did not want to answer her questioning stare. She had crawled back to her room to muse more, to try not to let everything that was going on get to her somehow. She hoped maybe that Rya would return on her own after cooling off, but she never did. June dragged and dragged her feet, and so did everyone else, it seemed. Elly continued her own preparations, Joel was in and out of the laboratory, and Phil couldn’t seem to shake himself out of his daze. Rya was quick to just become an idea rather than the actual person, and so even though she was on everyone’s minds, her whereabouts and wellbeing were not accounted for.

Hours passed. Finally, as everyone else in the house moved about as though they didn’t belong there or at least didn’t quite know what they were supposed to be doing, June collected herself and hurried out the door, without looking back. She was sure that Phil had seen her leave, but she wasn’t even a blip on his radar, if he had even truly registered the fact that she walked past him at all. He was so preoccupied by endlessly cleaning the corner of the coffee table, over and over, like his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

As June gently closed the front door behind her, she weighed her options. She looked to Phil’s car, looked at her own hands. Ultimately, she knew it would be better to take the car, even though Rya was on foot. Furthermore, she was terrified of what Rya might be planning, if anything at all. Rya was impulsive, always impulsive, always having knee-jerk reactions. She knew that it was imperative for her to to act quickly. After all, she had already let hours carelessly pass by without a single action on her part. What if something had already happened? She couldn’t even stomach the thought of it.

June shook her head. Rya couldn’t have gone far. She barely knew where she was. June resolved to take a lap down the street before getting in the car and wasting gas, especially if it might actually snap someone else out of their haze and incite questioning. She could probably think of a few alibis, but what was even the point? After taking a moment to peek in the back and side yards, she embarked on her hopeless journey.

The air was warm, but thick. It also breathed the hints of an oncoming cold night. She quaked a little, wondering if she should stop and grab a light jacket before continuing. She thought better of it, knowing so much time had been lost already.

“I don’t see why she hasn’t come home already,” June muttered to herself, bitterly. “Where could she have gone?”

She took slow, deliberate steps down the sidewalk, reveling in the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.  Even though fall had yet to hit with full force and summer still desperately clung on with its endless heat, the leaves were bronzing and dying more and more each day, littering the ground with the end of an era. She mused on the messiness of the ground beneath her, wondering how much effort it would be to rake it all up. Just like everything else, it was probably easier to just ignore. Plus the sound of her feet sinking into the leaves as they came apart gave her a pleasing, tangible sensation, kept her alert. But apparently not _too_ alert.

“You’re _not_ getting in the way,” a voice behind her breathed. “Turn around right now.”

June froze. She whirled around. “I know that voice,” she murmured. She cringed. She squinted toward the sunset. Seeing nothing but dark oranges and yellows after temporarily blinding herself, she shielded her eyes and looked around. All she saw was the same empty street she had always seen, the same quiet, unassuming homes. The remaining leaves still clinging to life on the few trees along the street rustled quietly in the wind. She shouted, seemingly to the void, “Come on. Show yourself, dude.”

Almost as if he had just materialized there, Andrew stepped out of the shadow of a large tree in the front yard of the house across the street, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his signature brown hoodie. Startled, June turned toward the movement, squinted harder.

“Ah, I should’ve _known_ it was you,” she spat. She approached him, fearlessly. The two of them met each other halfway, in the middle of the street. “I couldn’t recognize you with the hood actually _up_ , you know.”

“I’m just being careful,” he said. He fidgeted, tugging on the strings of his hoodie and scanning the neighborhood.

“What are you even doing creeping around here, Andrew? I didn’t think you actually still lived around here, considering you never came by after… Well.” June raised her eyebrows, knowing she could communicate entire years to him in that movement alone. She hadn’t even thought about the last time she had seen him, and didn’t want to. She still had no idea what had _really_ happened to him, what his real motives were. Her feelings about Rya had been muddled enough without Andrew wedging himself into the picture. If anything, he seemed to her a wolf in geek’s clothing. Something was definitely up. Something she wasn’t sure she was prepared to deal with on top of everything else.

“That’s not important,” Andrew responded quickly. He leaned forward and put a steady arm around June to guide her off the street and closer into the shadows, into the shade of his tree. She grimaced, but allowed him to pull her away. “I’m only here to take care of a little something.”

“Oh, so you’re _not_ here for dinner,” June joked. She finally shoved Andrew’s arm off of her.

He recoiled. “You’re funny, loser. I do know about that, though.”

“Ah, just as I imagined. You’re in cahoots with Cassidy, then, huh?”

“Captain Obvious, I see,” Andrew said, a wry smile playing across his face. “I can’t imagine you’d dream of stopping us, or narking on us.”

“ _Narking_ , huh? That’s funny. That’s comical. You know I haven’t said anything this whole time. Everyone’s been entirely clueless. Everyone’s forgotten! Not that it would have mattered anyway. It’s only recently that Rya confronted me, and for good reason,” June said. Her tone was light, almost airy, but her expression was dark. “You know what? I don’t even know if I _want_ to know. I don’t want any more guilt from this. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of the nightmares.”

“You were going after her, right now,” Andrew snarled, pulling her closer. “What the hell is _that_ , then, if you don’t want to be involved?”

“I… I don’t know. I do care about her,” she said, slowly, avoiding eye contact. “But I guess it’s stupid. I guess I just thought… Maybe she could still like me, y’know, with time. I… You guys don’t _have_ to do this. Whatever it is that’s… Going on.”

Andrew chuckled lightly and shifted, resting his hands on her shoulders. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Though Andrew was clearly just being condescending, June actually took a moment to ponder this. Then she shrugged, and stepped out of Andrew’s touch. “Ya know, I really don’t. I’m sure I don’t. And here I was, trying to defend myself, because Rya was coming at me with being a traitor or whatever.” She smiled weakly. “I shouldn’t have let her go. Now I’m gonna blame myself for that too, even though it’s not like I could’ve stopped her, or known that she was gonna disappear, and you were gonna show up. She was hellbent.”

Andrew nodded, though he wasn’t fully listening; in fact, he had spent the time she was talking to formulate his own question. “So… What _did_ Rya confront you about? What… did she say exactly?”

“Um, well, lots of things, actually,” June stumbled. “I’m not sure it means anything to you. She, uh, did say that Cassidy broke into our house last night, which was probably the weirdest thing.” She cast him a sidelong glance, hoping for some further extrapolation on that note.

“Nothing about me, then, huh?” Andrew asked, looking to the ground as he kicked around some stray rocks.

“Uh…” She thought a little harder to answer more accurately, even though she wasn’t sure he deserved it. The question was valid, but June seized up when the realization hit her that this whole conversation could just be a distraction from Cassidy, and whatever she might possibly be doing to Rya, right at that moment. For some reason, she hadn’t even considered it. She knew all of the separate components that made those plans come together, but she hadn’t yet connected them in her own mind. Seeing Andrew threw everything off, even knowing that the three of them had conspired together.

Andrew kept talking, despite the fact that June’s mouth now hung open in disbelief. “I know she likes to pretend that she has no idea where I’ve run off to. Pretty obnoxious, consistently not getting credit for anything. Pretty obnoxious, how I wasn’t even invited to your stupid little dinner for Rya. Even though _both_ of us had been waiting rather patiently for a chance just like it. Nothing could be better, really. But I mean, jeez, I was in that stupid cartoon _too_ , y’know. I got arguably more screen time than _you_ , and was definitely more well- _liked._ But here I am, apart of this plot once again, because I have stakes in it too, and—”

“Where is she, Andrew?” June suddenly asked.

“What, Cassidy?” Andrew laughed. “I thought she was coming over for dinner.”

“Like I’m supposed to believe that now?” June cried, quickly jumping into hysterics. She started backing toward the street again, gesticulating wildly at the open world around her before turning to face him in the middle of the road. “She’s probably already _killed_ Rya and is in the process of burying her right now, isn’t she?! Tell me the _truth_ , Andrew, not your twisted version of it! I mean, _Jesus_ , Andrew! What the _hell_ is the point? Why are you even bothering?!”

Andrew reached a hand into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out a gun, aiming it right at her face. This wasn’t like the ridiculous weapons she had laid her eyes upon in Bonus Stage, the ones she would often see Joel or other villains wield; no, she knew for a fact that this handgun was real, would shoot real bullets, inflict real damage. When she was in the simulation, she would still be frightened, as the pain she felt was genuine, sure. But she knew if Andrew shot her right then, even if it wasn’t right in the face, she would keel over, bleed, her organs may be punctured, she could die. She wouldn’t wake up as though nothing had happened. Nothing would reset. The world would continue without her. Her blood would dry up eventually. Her bones would become dust. It was almost certain that no one would try to bring her back to life.

“That thing can’t be loaded,” June said calmly, though her legs shook. “You… You wouldn’t shoot me in plain daylight, in the middle of the street like this. I — we might live in a weirdly isolated neighborhood, b-but we do have neighbors, sorta. They could… Someone could be watching even now!” She wanted to take another look around, to maybe confirm that she saw some crooked blinds and peeping eyes, but her eyes were glued to the gun.

Andrew waited, keeping his weapon trailed on her for another moment. Then he lowered it and put it away. June embarrassed herself at how deeply she sighed in relief. Despite knowing all that Joel had managed to accomplish up until now, she still had the fear of death in her. She was glad for it. She didn’t want Joel beating that out of her somehow, even if it was unintentional — and it probably would be.

“God, you’re pathetic. I was just being dramatic,” Andrew groaned. “Besides, it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t intend on being here for much longer anyway. I’m really only here until things get taken care of.”

“What exactly are you two planning, may I ask?” June said, still looking at him through the corners of her eyes. She felt suddenly hyper vigilant, aware of any and all sounds and movement around her - though there weren’t many.

Then, she got the courage to turn her head more and look back to the house, desperately hoping that someone had wised up and began watching. She cursed herself, remembering how helpful everyone else had been during other crucial moments, such as that confrontation with Rya. She didn’t know why she bothered.

Andrew scoffed at her. “What’s it to you, exactly? You think you matter at all, to either of us?”

“I should friggin’ hope so, considering how you two _used_ me,” June spat, bitterly. “You could at _least_ give me that much. I should think I deserve _something_.”

Andrew laughed darkly. “It’s not our fault you were so pathetic. Couldn’t even get Joel to look your way, and that man had already taken years of your life, and continues to do so to this day. And you’re stuck. What a shock. I almost feel sorry for you. _Almost_.

“As for our plan you so kindly mentioned, you realize I’m having to make some of this up as I go along, right?” Andrew continued. “There’s too many of you. Too many variables. I’m just trying to keep watch, see what’s going on. I’m staking out, you could say. I mean, I’m flattered, but you give me too much credit. It’s not like I’ve just been hiding out, scheming all this time. Anyway, doesn’t even matter. Cassidy should be showing up soon anyway.”

After he finished talking, a deafening silence seemed to overtake the two of them, enveloping even the ambient noises of the world around them. June looked around the neighborhood again, and saw nothing but the same stretch of empty, quiet houses. After a beat, she started massaging her temples.

“God, I hate this place,” she sighed.

“Yeah. I fucking hate Charismaville.”

“Yeah. That’s not what I really meant. But yeah.” June took a tentative step backward, toward the house. She spun on her heel and observed it once more, thinking about the people inside. Then her mind wandered back to Rya, whom now she knew for a fact Andrew and Cassidy were after. For what reasons _exactly_ , she couldn’t say with any meaningful certainty. But the mere fact alone made her blood turn to ice in her veins. She didn’t want to be an accomplice in her murder, _not again._

Her back still to Andrew, she said, “Hmm, then… Why do you want me to go home, exactly? I could just be running an errand. I… You could just pretend to not have seen me, and I could pretend I didn’t see you.”

“Ha, _sure_ ,” Andrew scoffed. _“_ Yeah, an errand. An errand of going after that dumbass robot that left that dumbass alcoholic’s house in tears a bit ago. I actually had no idea if anyone was gonna even go out looking for her or care. I got lucky that I could intercept you. I know Joel has to be too busy, but the rest of you are wild cards.”

“How the hell would you even know stuff like that? We haven’t even spoken in _years_.”

“We didn’t have to. And that’s none of your business, anyway.”

June turned to Andrew again. “I should think it is, if you’ve been _stalking_ us.” Though she spat the word “stalking” at Andrew like it was the dirtiest thing she could possibly think of, he wasn’t fazed. “I mean, what kind of crap are you trying to feed me, saying you _haven’t_ been keeping tabs on us for years. How the hell can you expect me to even believe you?”

With a shrug, Andrew said, “Please. Like you’re that important. Like it’s not easy as hell when everyone posts everything all over the internet, all of the time.”

June’s phone buzzed frantically against her. Without taking her eyes off Andrew, she patted at her pocket and extracted it. Andrew nodded at her, and she allowed herself to look at the screen for a few moments. She couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at what she saw. The screen told her she had numerous missed texts and phone calls, all from Joel. This last incoming call from him was the first one she had even noticed. She cringed, then she looked up from her phone screen to Andrew, who was watching her intently.

“Well?” he asked.

“It… It’s Joel,” she whispered. She narrowed her eyes. “Y’know, the one who’s supposed to be ‘busy,’ as you said. I… Should I…?”

Her phone continued to buzz violently. She could almost feel Joel’s patience wearing thinner and thinner, as if he had even had any for her in the first place. Andrew furrowed his brow, but then he shrugged again.

“You should know what to do,” he said.

She hit accept and lifted the phone up to her ear. Then she thought better of it, remembering that Andrew had a gun in his pocket, and lowered the device. She put it on speaker. “Um, hi, Joel,” June said crookedly. “What’s uh… What’s going on?”

Joel’s irritated voice crackled over the speaker, “Uh, yeah, June. _Hi_ , about time. Took you long enough. Where the hell is she? And where are _you?!_ ”

June swallowed painfully. “We’re… Everything’s fine, Joel. What do you need? Rya and I… Are fine.” She blinked back tears, tormenting herself about Rya, stressed not knowing where she was, worried that she’d never find her.

“Well where the hell are you guys?!” Joel snapped. “It’s kinda imperative that you two, uh, be here when Cassidy’s here. She’s gonna be on her way soon.”

Andrew smiled. He played with the pockets on his hoodie.

“Uhh, well, we went on a walk, Joel,” June said softly. “We’ll be home sometime soon, uh. Did you want to talk to her… or something?”

Joel laughed. “No, no. Not even… remotely close to anything like that. I just want to make sure you know where the hell she is. And, uh… Yeah. I’m going to be down in the lab. So when you come back, don’t look for me.” June sighed in relief, but Joel took it as out of irritation. “I mean it, June. Don’t.”

“Uh, okay, duly noted,” June breathed. “I’ll talk to you—”

Joel had already hung up on her. June sighed and put her phone away. When she looked back to Andrew, he was sneering smugly back at her.

“Wipe that fucking grin off your face, dickhead,” June barked.

“I’m so glad you know how to play nice.”

June looked to her feet, crestfallen. She felt defeated. “I realize there’s nothing I can do to stop you guys from killing her. You know. If it hasn’t already happened, this whole thing just being a distraction. Because… I know, there would be no proof of anything, she isn’t really real the same way you and I are. But _please_. Leave me out of it. I want to wash my hands of this for good.”

“Then go,” Andrew said. “Go, before I change my mind about emptying this gun into your face.”

This comment made June dismiss him with a sneer. Somehow, even though she was still terrified of what his deal was, she couldn’t help but being somewhat amused (if not incredibly irritated) by him. Her memories of him on Bonus Stage were still belligerently fresh in her memory, and they weren’t something that could be easily disregarded, even if he did have that handgun in his pocket. She wondered if this was how Rya had felt, her annoyance and anger overriding everything else she should be feeling.

She said, “You sound ridiculous. Threatening and ridiculous. No wonder Elly broke up with you. I’m glad she finally found the strength to do so.”

Andrew’s expression contorted into that of utter disgust and hatred, the first time he had shown any extreme, visceral reaction to anything she had said. “What the _fuck_ did you just say?”

June smiled. She felt peaceful, knowing she still had power over him in some way, even if it was just to further beat a dead horse. “What, you wanna kill me even more now? I mean, be my guest! Because frankly, that’s hilarious. And I really don’t think you’ve got the balls, you drooling idiot.”

Andrew clenched his fists, gritted his teeth. He looked like an agitated dog at the end of its chain, frothing at the mouth for want of a chance at tearing open someone’s jugular vein — in this case, June’s, of course. “Shut the _hell_ up if you know what’s good for you, you lowlife.”

“Fine. But just tell me something,” June said, approaching him and again shortening the distance between them. “I mean… really, Andrew. What would you have me do? What am I _supposed_ to do? I lied to Joel like you wanted me to. But how am I supposed to keep covering?”

“She has a window,” Andrew said, shifting uncomfortably. “She could escape her room or something. Draft a fucking suicide note or something, I don’t know. Jeez. It’s not even really any of my concern, anyway. It’s not like anyone is gonna be coming after _me_ , by any means.”

“Um, okay, and… Joel was a dick and told me not to bother him when I got home because he’d be in his lab,” June continued. “But what if someone _else_ is right there and wants to talk to Rya? Expects her to be with me? This isn’t exactly foolproof. I mean, I know everyone’s a bunch of idiots, but it’s not quite like _that._ Plus, Phil has been really concerned for her ever since she got here. He always _has_ been… Always has shown a level of concern for her. For… Others. Jeez. I don’t know, Andrew. There’s a lot of factors here! You said it yourself!”

“I wish I could tell you that I care about any of that, but I don’t,” Andrew said. He smirked. “I just don’t. You can come up with something else, I’m sure. None of my business or concern.”

June bit her lower lip, chewed on it furiously. She exhaled. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that, right?”

“Thank you for your compliance,” Andrew said. He laughed, heartlessly.

June turned away. As she walked back to the house, she kept looking over her shoulder. Andrew stood watching her the entire time, and kept watching her even after she walked up the driveway, opened the front door, and went inside.

* * *

“A suicide note?” June asked again, tentatively. Joel was still examining it out of the corner of his eye, perhaps scrutinizing it in case there were some sort of underlying message hidden in it somewhere.

“Looks like it to me. I mean, it’s a garbage one at that.”

“It’s not a — I mean… How… How do you figure? Wh- What does it say?” June said, her voice quavering. For a moment, her heart fluttered, thinking of the possibility of Joel possibly recognizing her handwriting. If it were any other person, she might have prayed. Knowing it was Joel, however, made it much easier to compose herself quickly. If there was one good thing that came out of Joel’s neglect and abuse toward her, it was that she could get away with harebrained schemes like this — or at least, half-assed schemes she concocted in a few desperate seconds believing that Andrew and Cassidy would ruthlessly murder her and all her friends if she didn’t comply with their sick wishes.

“It’s like she’s a friggin’ _toddler_ ,” Joel laughed. “Look at this chicken scratch. I mean, _middle schoolers_ wouldn’t even stoop this low. I mean, there’s bad writing and there’s _bad_ writing.”

“What does it _say_ ,” June growled, through gritted teeth. She couldn’t even trust her own memory not to have warped its contents already, even though she had scrawled them but a few hours ago. She had hoped that perhaps a better idea would wrench its way into her brain while she composed the note, but she came up short every time. She was in too deep now, everything seemed to be spiraling out of control once again. What was she to do about anything anymore?

Joel scanned the message again. He scoffed. “Whatever.” He tossed the crumpled paper back onto the bed.

Frantic, June snatched it away and reread it herself. Even though she was hyper-aware of the fact that she was reading her own words, her reactions to them were still visceral, genuine. She trembled again, her breath caught in her throat. Just thinking of the impact of those words, knowing that Rya could possibly already be in a ditch somewhere, and that she would be partially responsible — _again_ — was more than enough to make her stomach churn painfully. Worse yet, Joel didn’t seem the least affected by it.

“What, so she’s gone?” Joel asked.

June couldn’t read his tone at all. “I… That’s what it seems like,” she mumbled. “I-I mean, you read this. She ‘can’t take things anymore.’ She… ‘Didn’t ask to be alive in the first place.’” She shuddered. Reading the words out loud hurt more.

Joel shook his head. “Well, whatever. That’s that. There’s no point in going after her.”

June whirled around, her eyes rapidly filling up with tears. “Wh… How can you be so calloused?! She could be hurt, or _dead_ , or—”

“Well, that’s her choice to make, then,” Joel growled. He tossed his hands up into the air, in defeat. “I mean, isn’t that what you had been concerned about all along? Her choices? What she was going to do? Maybe this is what she had always wanted to do in the first place. Who am I to stop her? It’s not up to me. I can bring someone back to life. I can’t make someone want to live.”

“Joel…” June said. The words got lost. Every retort she had prepared died before they could be breathed to life. She considered breaking down, telling him the truth. Telling _someone_ the truth, if only so she could stop feeling so helpless in every aspect of her life. Somehow, she knew it mattered even less. If the supposed suicide of his own creation wasn’t enough to stir anything out of him, what would it matter if she told him about Andrew? About Cassidy? Then another, worse thought occurred to her.

“We have dinner to attend to, if you’ll remember,” Joel continued. “We have people who are so kindly waiting for us out there, ya know.”

“Oh, like you even care about that,” June said, bitterly. She ground her teeth. She decided to go straight for it. She had to know. “Joel, did you _know_?” She waited but a moment for him, but his mouth simply hung open. “You dickhead. About _this!_ About Rya! That she was going to… Disappear, like this! Don’t _lie_ to me!”

Joel studied her face. He began, carefully, “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“You’re sure about that,” she said.

“Yes.”

He clenched his fists at his sides. He started to walk out of the room, but June grabbed ahold of his arm. She didn’t think he had any reason to lie, but she couldn’t be so sure sure.

“Where are you going?” she asked, without looking at him. Her eyes were still glued to the note, the note she had contrived, but she was also too afraid to look Joel in the eyes. She was terrified of what she might see. “Aren’t you worried about her…? Shouldn’t we do something? What should we do?”

Joel tensed under her hand. June prepared for him to shrug her off, but he didn’t move away.

“It… It doesn’t matter,” Joel said softly, slowly. Ordinarily the words spilled out of him, as he seemingly never had an off button. There was always something going on in his brain, but it usually struggled to keep up with what was already tumbling out of his mouth. This time was different. He stared at the floor. The words were calculated, plucked delicately from an already determined set of phrases he knew had to be said. Some were still in review. Rather than sending June reeling at the speed by which he usually shot things out, June found herself in agony in the spaces between the words.

“And what about this other thing? The _Kate_ thing?” June interrogated, glaring at Joel even though he was defiantly averting his gaze. “Are you _ever_ going to talk about it? Huh? When the hell is going to be the right time for _that,_ I wonder.”

Joel smiled crookedly. “So… You figured it out, huh?”

“I’m not _stupid_ , you know,” she snarled. “You can’t keep this from me. I should hope you’re not just gonna drop it on everyone at dinner. Is _that_ what this is?! That’s what it is, isn’t it? That all of this — this isn’t about Rya, this was _never_ about Rya! It’s about, it’s about—”

Joel pressed a finger to June’s lips to silence her. She was so shocked that she obliged. “I’m going to make the announcement. I’m going to do it anyway. Be patient.” He cupped her face in his hand. He tilted her chin up toward him, kissing her gently. When he pulled away, he sighed, “June… I’m sorry.”

He let go. He walked away. June chewed on her lip, still vaguely tasting him, or at least feeling the phantom sensation of mouth on hers. She couldn’t even remember the last time he had willfully doled out any affection to her. She quickly followed him out the the room, but she took care to shut the door behind her. She didn’t want Rya’s fake escape to look even more careless than it already did.

 

Back at the dinner table, things were moderately uncomfortable but not tense. Without Rya there with them, things didn’t seem to have a proper point anymore. Conversations stopped and started in a strange, confused symphony that didn’t quite have all of its sheet music in order. In fact, having company over just seemed more out of place than anything else. It seemed like there was supposed to be a point somewhere, or a punchline, like perhaps Phil’s mother was about to make yet another a surprise appearance as apart of some ill-contrived joke, or maybe Joel was waiting for everyone to get comfortable before revealing the twist that it was Cassidy that was the dead robot after all, not Rya. But after Cassidy had earlier given Phil an extensive runaround on Rya and the reasons behind her existence, it seemed as though she had nothing more to say on the subject; rather, she had been endeavoring to steer everything into lighter subjects by means of playing a game of catch-up with everyone. Phil was still timid to join in fully, as he still vaguely worried about Rya, but did not have the energy to leave or investigate further, especially knowing that both Joel and June were already at it. Elly was happy at least to have Cassidy in front of her, all of her previous nervousness from the uncertainty finally dissipating.

If anything else, the food at least proved to be somewhat of a good distraction.

At last, June and Joel came back out. The silence they brought with them, though it was deafening, did nothing to stop or slow the hearty conversation that was currently occurring in their absence. The two had managed to come in between lulls, and the rest of the table perked up as both Joel and June took their seats again at at the table. Despite the strange energy she brought with her, June was still putting on a happy face. Of course there was turmoil burning within her at the thought of Rya, and of everything else — but she knew it was no use. There seemed to be no use to trying anything anymore, so she figured she might as well ride it out. On the other hand, at the head of the table, Joel still looked the part of a child filled with eustress, as though he might burst at any moment. Just as before, though, he kept stopping himself before he said anything too revealing. June couldn’t quite decipher this look on Joel; did he really not care about what happened to Rya? Did he know something else she didn’t, perhaps?

“Everything alright in there?” Phil asked, though he didn’t appear to be as on edge about things like he did before. In fact, June was almost offended by how at ease Phil seemed. Phil was _never_ at ease, June supposed, and of course he chooses the worst time of all to let his guard down.

Joel waved his hands noncommittally. June nodded weakly, staring at her still quaking hands and willing them to stop. She looked up and locked eyes with Cassidy, whose gaze pierced through her.

“Y’know, everything tastes really great, Elly,” Cassidy said, refusing to take her eyes off June. “Especially the spaghetti.”

“Funny that you say that, it’s actually June’s recipe,” Elly said, cheerfully. She was so caught up in her own world that she couldn’t see the daggers June and Cassidy were flinging at each other in their gazes. “But thank you! June’s more of the cook around here, I just kinda follow her lead most of the time. I’m trying, though.”

“June’s the maid,” Joel trilled, sing-song-y.

“Yeah. Thanks,” June said drily. She peered down at Cassidy’s plates — the woman had hardly touched her food at all. “I sure hope it’s not poison! I try _not_ to do that, poison people.”

“Are you sure?” Phil asked playfully. “I seem to distinctly remember _one_ time, y’know, in the simulation—”

“You’re thinking of _someone else,_ actually,” June barked. “Trust me.”

Phil was taken aback. He sputtered for a moment, trying to salvage the mood, “W-well, but I’m pretty sure you had a part of it, unless I’m remembering that episode incorrectly—”

Elly reached a hand up to rub his back. “Honestly, honey, most of that show is just a blur to me.”

Cassidy laughed loudly. “I don’t remember much of it myself, either.”

“Oh, _wait_ a second!” Phil exclaimed happily. He was excited to have his own _eureka_ moment, even if it was minuscule. “I remember it now, it was _Rya_ that poisoned us, not June!”

June flinched at her name, and Joel looked up, but tried not to do so obviously. Cassidy still seemed unfazed; after all, she shouldn’t have known about any of this stuff. Phil was referencing an episode very early on, and for all they knew, Cassidy was clueless about any of it. In fact, she hardly seemed to have any involvement in the cartoon at all, even when she was there for such a short time.

“Oh _yeah,_ ” Elly whispered to herself. “Y’know, I don’t think I was actually in that episode. There was so much that I missed out, especially because you guys went to _space_ and all that—”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have pulled that _Evil_ bullcrap,” Joel scoffed, “then maybe we would’ve taken you.” Elly opened her mouth to protest, but shook his head. “No, no, we probably still wouldn’t have.”

“Wait, Rya?” Cassidy asked.

June shuddered. She knew Cassidy had to have been holding on to that. She cleared her throat in a jarring way. “Yeah, that’s great,” she said, addressing no one in particular. “Well, so what else is going on?” She spoke loudly and clearly, pointedly trying to redirect the conversation. She wasn’t sure what to. She just knew it had to get away from where it was going, even if it was inevitable in the end.

Part of her worried if the topic remained strictly on memories of Bonus Stage. For one thing, talking about it was uncomfortable enough as it was. She could only really look at the show from a very surface level analysis without upsetting herself just on its own. On the other hand, she didn’t know what good it did to discuss these things with Cassidy. Without even considering the stuff concerning Rya, it didn’t seem like Cassidy had her own part in it. In fact, she had only made an appearance in eleven episodes, most of those she played a minor part. Most of their fans didn’t even like her that much. She didn’t add much. At least not until she murdered someone. So what gave her the right to want to talk about it when she didn’t know, when she wasn’t there for the majority of it? Of course, Joel probably would have argued that June wasn’t there for much of it either, although June knew that that was not by any choices of her own. Much like Elly, she held tightly to bitter thoughts.

Then, thinking of more relevant, pressing matters, June wasn’t sure what else Cassidy could be planning, much less if she was apart of it in any sort of feasible component. She just didn’t know how much Cassidy knew, if something had already happened behind the scenes. Perhaps revealing too much could be helping her out without anyone else knowing which was a terrifying notion. But what she feared most was suddenly saying the wrong thing and making herself a new target; after all, if she wasn’t one already, she certainly wanted to keep it that way. And where was Andrew supposed to be? What was he doing right now? She figured the best thing she could do was stay mild and out of the way to prove that she had no plans of meddling. Then at least she knew she could be safe for now.

She would have to figure out the rest later.

Elly piped up, “Yeah! We’ve hardly heard anything about you, Cassidy. What’s going on in your life?”

June paled a little bit more. She knew also that since Cassidy had gotten here, she had hardly at all spoken about herself. That was something else that had been making her skin crawl.

“Well, I pretty much covered everything already,” Cassidy said, laughing lightly. “I’m pretty boring. You know my story pretty much.”

“Yeah, but it’s been so _long_ ,” Elly insisted. “I don’t know! It feels like we don’t even know each other at all.”

“Oh, please, it hasn’t been that long,” Cassidy said.

“Did you… uh, did you ever actually get that degree?” Phil asked, timidly. Cassidy turned to him and delivered him her full attention, which made him balk a little. “Uh… Sorry if that’s intrusive. I just know you were in school for a long time. I don’t think you mentioned anything about it. I-I was just curious. Y-you don’t have to answer.”

Before Cassidy could even dream of responding, Joel sat up and leaned forward on his elbows, suddenly engaged. “Yeah, that’s right, _Hat Boy_. You _were_ in college a long time, weren’t you?”

“Jeez, Joel, and I thought _I_ was being obnoxious,” Phil said. “Are we putting her on trial now?”

“It’s alright,” Cassidy said quietly. She looked down at her plate of food. She idly poked at it with a fork that still looked like it had just come fresh out of the cabinet. “I mean, I’m sure you understand, Phil… The way things are in this day and age… I know we were used to our parents being able to get in and out of college in four years. But that sort of thing isn’t a reality for so many of us. It’s just not possible now. And with my degree, classes just got really impacted—”

“Impacted? What does that mean?” Elly asked. She wasn’t sure why she did, why she even cared, considering she didn’t really care for the college talk since she had never been able to go.

“U-uh, well,” Cassidy said, also caught off guard that Elly had joined this side conversation, “an impacted major is when too many students apply for it than the school can actually handle. Y’know, kind of a… Demand Exceeds Supply situation?”

“That makes sense,” Phil said, though he was lying — he actually wasn’t sure. He still didn’t understand why that meant she had to spend nearly seven years in school for a graphic design degree. Cassidy didn’t even really answer his question about whether or not she was able to attain the degree itself, but he felt like it was late to bring that up again now. His mind started reeling through potential reasons for this, as though it mattered. And what if that was supposed to be obvious? She didn’t come off as a partier, but perhaps there had to have been something else. This thought, though, Phil knew he couldn’t entertain as someone who had dropped out of college fairly early on.

“Gosh, enough about me!” Cassidy laughed. The air in the room was uncertain. She could tell that college was a strangely sensitive topic for everyone. After a beat of awkward silence, a lightbulb seemed to go off in her head, and she took the conversational reigns once more. “Soooo, Phil! Elly! Are you guys thinking about having kids soon?” she asked, innocently.

In the same moment, Joel fumbled and dropped his phone straight into his soup, June smacked the edge of the table and managed to flip a spoon into her face, Phil started choking on his water, and Elly flailed and knocked her entire bowl of salad into her lap. Cassidy almost couldn’t believe the comical situation that had unfolded before her very eyes at one of the most predictable questions one could possibly ask a married couple, especially a couple that had been together for years.

“ _Dammit_ , now just what the hell is this?!” Joel shouted, as he fished his drenched phone out of his soup at the cost of searing his hand. The question was less directed at Cassidy than it was at humanity in general.

“What, was it really such an offensive question?” Cassidy laughed. She looked around again at everyone, but they all had yet to compose themselves. The group was still scattered, picking up the bewildered pieces of themselves. She said, “I mean, c’mon. Seems pretty standard to me, Phil’s been in love with Elly since high school and you two have been married for years. Right?”

Elly held her head down defiantly, scrambling to clean up the mess of salad and dressing off of her lap, but the redness on her face was glaringly obvious; her embarrassment even more palpable. She babbled to herself.

“U-uh, I’m just — we’re just not really interested,” Phil said, though the words sounded bland, insincere. It was almost as though Phil had expected this question and had a canned response prepared, stutters and all. “I’m not at that point in my life where I can even be thinking about that. I have too much going on.”

“Yeah, it sure looks like it,” Cassidy said drily. “I mean, wow, a dead robot and a cat. Pretty exciting.”

June had been in the middle of bending over to pick up her spoon that had dropped to the floor, but she shot back up at Cassidy’s words. Her blood froze.

“What would _you_ know about dead robots?” Joel hissed, standing up from the table and slamming his palms down.

“I was _just_ thinking of your _stupid_ show,” Cassidy hissed, shaking a fist at him. She had forgotten that she wasn’t quite supposed to know about it yet, which was her own mistake, but she also didn’t see why it mattered anymore. She looked back over to Phil, who appeared to be trembling slightly.

Joel glowered at her for another moment before falling back down into his chair and busying himself again with cleaning his soup-filled phone.

“I just don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Phil argued. “We weren’t _talking_ about the show. Or _Rya_ , for that matter.”

“Why defend it? It was garbage and we all know it,” Cassidy continued.

Elly and June were too shocked to comment. While Elly was somewhat amused, although baffled beyond words, June looked fearfully to Joel. She was afraid of the horrible things that could come tumbling out of his mouth. But he said nothing. In fact, he was still cleaning his phone like that was the only thing in the world that mattered. Perhaps he didn’t find the argument worth his time. After all, he certainly had better things with which to concern himself.

“That’s beside the friggin’ point, and I wasn’t defending anything,” Phil barked back. He wasn’t even sure why he felt such a righteous umbrage at her words, but something within him urged him forward, to keep yelling as if it were the only thing he could do to hold the family together.

Elly and June poked at their food, their heads down. Neither of them were sure what they had expected when Joel invited Cassidy over. This was probably the best possible outcome.

Cassidy surveyed the room, absorbing the tense pressure, and scoffed. “I just fail to see why you have a stick up your ass about my question,” she said, her voice lowering. She folded her arms.

“Well, _jeez_ , Cass,” Phil huffed indignantly. He mimicked her body language and folded his arms as well. “I don’t see _you_ shacking up anytime soon. Unless there’s something _you’re_ not telling us, as you’ve been awfully evasive about your personal life this entire time!”

Cassidy stood up suddenly and knocked the fork out of his hand. It fell to the floor with a jarring clatter and everyone to turn to stare at her as an unsettling silence fell over the group, one even more enveloping than before. Even Joel, who had effectively distracted himself again, had ceased attempting to dry off his phone to see what the ruckus was about.

“Okay, what the hell?! What was that for?” Phil asked, his face turning red.

“You haven’t changed one bit, you asshole,” she snarled, leaning in uncomfortably close. Her usually light, modulated voice had abruptly taken on an uncharacteristically grating quality, although one that seemed almost oddly, chillingly familiar. “Although I’m not sure if you’re just pretending to be oblivious, or if you really are that _dense._ ”

“I’m… I—I can’t say I know what you’re trying to say, here…” Phil tried, his gaze falling to the floor. The way her voice hit his ears appeared to rouse a deep-seated fear in him, much unlike the habitual dread from earlier that he had become so accustomed to. No, this time, her voice came at him from another place, stirring up even stranger feelings of terror and trepidation. He didn’t know how to place it at all. His hands shook.

“Alright, okay, I’m lost here,” Elly interjected, bending over in her seat to pick up the fork. Her protectiveness over Phil had overtaken how flustered she was previously and allowed her to compose herself in a matter of seconds. She continued, “Phil might still be terrified of women, but I’m not afraid of you.” She pointed the fork at Cassidy for emphasis, as Phil turned to glare at her for that side comment. “What exactly is your damage? I mean, he has a point. You _have_ been avoiding disclosing anything.”

Cassidy huffed, then straightened her posture. “That’s funny coming from you, Mrs. Argus,” she spat, her voice still gruff and strained, “Coming at me and telling me that _I’m_ hiding things. That’s hilarious. I wouldn’t expect any less from the likes of you. I guess you _all_ have been missing the point!” She shot away from the table and left the room in a hurry, without looking back.

Phil stood up quickly, with the intention of following her, but Elly raised an arm up to stop him.

“Let her go,” she said, voice lowering dramatically. “Give her some damn space.” She crossed her arms, Cassidy’s words ringing in her ears. Nothing made any sense.

“She’s… But I…” Phil stuttered, staring into space, as though Cassidy might materialize again in front of his very eyes to finish the abruptly ended conversation.

“This is hard on everyone,” June said, morose. She was looking at her lap.

“I don’t understand,” Phil said quietly.

He continued to stammer to himself helplessly, waiting for someone around him to do something, anything. No one wanted to, though. Cassidy’s outburst had caught everyone off-guard. Even though Phil instigated, and there had been good reason for her to get annoyed, no one really knew what to expect from their guest. It was as though everyone was devoid of any significant memories or ties to her, and just expected someone _else_ in the group to pick up the slack.

“What, I mean what, is she going home now?” Joel sniped. He crossed his arms. “Figures she wouldn’t be able to handle it. We hadn’t even gotten to the good part. Because nobody can keep it together for more than twenty seconds without bringing the drama. All of it.”

“We hadn’t even really _talked_ about her yet,” June said quietly. “She hasn’t gotten to have a say.”

Everyone jumped and turned to her as though they had forgotten she was there. June simply shrugged. She was used to this. _More_ than used to it.

“Well, where did she go? Hat Boy, I mean?” Joel pressed. “I didn’t see her leave.”

“I’m right _here_ , you idiot,” Cassidy said, from the living room. Everyone stopped what they were doing to peer over at her. She was reclining on the couch, as one might do to unwind after any normal family dinner, but her body language was tense, “And I can still _hear_ you guys, you know. Your voices carry very easily. I just needed a breather over here.”

Elly cupped her hands over her mouth and shouted, “And you deserve it!”

“She _just_ said she could hear us, I mean what the hell,” June snapped.

“Jeez, you guys, can we at least _try_ to keep it together a little?!” Elly said brusquely. “We’re gonna quickly lose control of this situation if we let it escalate anymore. Give her a chance to calm down, to breathe. Then we can talk and everything will be fine. Yes. That’s what’s going to happen.”

“I just don’t get what I said that was wro—” Phil started.

“ _Shut up_ , Phil,” Joel said.

“Well, gosh, I didn’t mean to make things so unbearably awkward,” Phil said.

Joel tossed his hands up into the air, and June smacked her forehead. “For God’s sake, Phil,” she muttered.

The doorknob jiggled. Everyone flinched as someone pounded on the front door, desperately. The person then began alternating slamming the doorbell and punching the door, their very life dependent upon it. Much like when Cassidy arrived, everyone made some sort of an awkward jump up again to try and get the door, though this time there was no hesitation, at least between Joel and Phil.

Joel tried to rush over, but he stumbled over his chair and fell flat on his face. He scrambled to his feet, but Phil was already making his way over even faster. Phil’s own legs shook, but he had managed to stand up from the table quickly without incident. He dashed over, heart pounding hard, unbelievably hard. He didn’t even check to see who it was before he swiftly unlocked the door and swung it open. Rya stumbled forward onto him, knocking him clear onto the floor. Rather than roll off of him and help him up, she gasped happily and clung to him. She buried her face into his shoulder, sobbing grossly. He was too stunned to move.

“What the fuck is this?!” Cassidy screamed, jumping up from the couch.

Joel rolled onto his back and threw his hands up into the air.

“Surprise!!” he shouted.


	10. Chapter Nine

“Rya — you’re _alive_ ,” Cassidy whispered.

To everyone, Cassidy’s surprise was genuine. To Joel and Elly, her surprise was especially pure. Joel wasn’t sure himself whether or not Rya was still alive, while Elly just figured that he hadn’t gotten a chance to babble about his great feat yet. To Phil, the shock was still acceptably appropriate; after all, she hadn’t yet seen Rya in the flesh yet, and that was certainly different than just talking about her. June knew that Cassidy’s shock was real because she knew that Rya was, in fact, supposed to be dead. For real.

Phil still hadn’t moved, Rya was lying on top of him, shaking and sobbing. His shoulder was drenched. He had tons of questions on his mind, but he wasn’t quite sure what to ask first. Right now, instead of seeming like a child or a teenager like she had so many times before, Rya was the family pet that had been lost months before and was only now reuniting with her shocked owner who had given up on ever seeing her again.

“Where _were_ you?” Phil asked. He didn’t think it really mattered.

For the moment, Rya was incapacitated, she was blubbering, hysterically.

“Hey, ya see!” Joel said excitedly, turning to Cassidy. “I did this. Well uh, not… Made her like this, I guess. But y’know. I made her alive again, since she was dead and all.”

Cassidy smiled weakly, though she still maintained an appropriate level of surprise in her eyes. “You know, I had honestly forgotten that she had been made human in the first place. Jeez, what happened?” Her smile widened as she looked over at June, who was having hiding her emotions at the current moment.

At that comment, Rya lifted her head. She couldn’t bear to look at Cassidy, however. Instead, she looked to Joel, tears continuing to stream down her face as she emitted more pitiful noises like a wounded animal.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead,” Joel said casually, as if the moment wasn’t emotionally charged. “That would kinda go against the whole thing I did here. This really _awesome_ thing, I should remind you all.” He made it a point to glare at everyone. He folded his arms.

“ _No_ , I agree, it’s really awesome,” Cassidy piped up, tentatively. She stepped forward and squeezed one of Joel’s shoulders. “I mean, damn, Joel. How did you do it?”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, prepared to unleash his entire spiel, and perhaps _finally_ announce his amazing announcement that he had been dying to release for an agonizing amount of time. But then Cassidy continued, “I’m just shocked that she… ran off, like that. And came back in such… disarray. I-I mean, what the hell?”

“Ya know, it’s not super unlike her,” Joel said, completely thrown off course. Anything of substance he was going to tell her just now went out the window. “She _did_ just kinda do her own thing in the simulation. I think I programmed _way_ too much of a personality in her, if you can believe it. Like a pissy teenager. And now she’s like, _super_ hormonal.”

“Uh, dare I ask?” Cassidy laughed.

“Is this _appropriate_ discussion?” June snapped.

Cassidy and Joel merely exchanged annoyed glances. Meanwhile, Elly stayed silent, not sure where her place was in the conversation. After all, she hadn’t talked to Rya all day. And again, her relationship with Rya seemed tumultuous at best up to this point.

At last, Phil shifted a bit of Rya’s weight off of him so that he could sit up. Rya still clung to him, trying desperately to get ahold of herself so that she could tell all. On the other hand, Phil’s mind was still racing, and he was trying to sort things for himself out so that he could properly assess just what the hell was going on.

After a moment, Rya finally lifted her head up and pointed an accusatory finger at Cassidy, who looked as perplexed as anyone else did. “ _You!!_ He _did this! I was attacked!_ And — he was working — with _you_!” Rya shouted, between gasps. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She clutched her chest. She moaned.

“Uh, Rya, what do you mean?” Phil asked, gently. He scooted the rest of his body out from under her, making efforts to get up. He tried also to get Rya to her feet, but she shook violently, still holding onto her chest and stomach. He kneeled beside her to attempt to hoist her up, but he couldn’t get a proper grip on her as she was quaking too hard. “What happened? Rya—”

“God, are you gonna be clueless even _now_?!” Rya shrieked, though it wasn’t so much directed at Phil as it was to everybody. She gasped, she stumbled.

Rya collapsed onto her stomach. Phil grabbed onto her shoulders again and gently rolled her over, and then he noticed the blood.

“Oh, my God…” Phil whispered.

Slowly, Rya lowered her arms to her sides, revealing her tattered shirt and wounds. She covered her face. Phil checked himself, and sure enough, she had bled onto his shirt as well. He gasped loudly.

“ ** _What the_ ** —” Phil started, but the words caught in his throat.

Elly finally spoke up. “And what the hell is this? I… I thought you guys all said that Rya was in her room this whole time!” She pointed accusatory fingers at Joel and June, who looked just as bewildered as she did. “I—I mean, you guys _just_ checked on her! We were all in the kitchen! None of us saw her leave!”

June stuttered for a second. “Well, I-I, we were going to say someth—”

“She left a suicide note, actually,” Joel said flatly.

“She **_what_**?!” Phil shouted. He craned his neck painfully to look at Joel, and then he looked to Rya. “Is this— were you trying to—”

Rya’s expression contorted into one of disgust and confusion. “I… I don’t…” she gasped.

“Yeah, I can go get that,” Joel said, talking loudly over her, much to Phil’s chagrin. “This must be her first failed suicide attempt, or something.”

“Her _first?_ ” Phil shouted, in utter disbelief. “What the _hell_ —”

“I- actually, _I_ can go get that,” June mumbled. Of course, no one heard her, or if they did, they didn’t care. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt embarrassed. She was stunned and happy to find that Rya was alive, but the lies were already stacking up, things were already spiraling out of control.

June turned, fully prepared to rush out of the room to grab aforementioned note, but Joel came over and grasped her shoulders tightly. “And just where do you think you’re going?!”

“I told you, I’m getting the damn suicide note,” she grumbled. “Let go of me! Time is a factor!”

Joel rolled his eyes and rushed off, leaving the rest of the group to continue to curse at each other and sputter in utter mayhem and confusion.

“Can someone explain that? Suicide note? Where the hell did _that_ come from?” Elly demanded.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?! Elly and I were under the impression that she was just hiding out in her room! How’d she get outside?” Cassidy inquired, gesturing at her and then at Elly, who was standing beside her.

“Um, wait a second, I mean _I_ didn’t know that for sure, and _you_ didn’t even know she was here in the first place, I thought,” Elly said, holding her hands up in defense. “June was the one who said that. I just went along with it. June was the one who even said she was sick, right?”

“Oh, my God,” June interjected. “She has a fucking window. How was I supposed to know — I mean could she have — how would I know if she escaped or not?”

Joel materialized around the corner again, waving the note around, but nobody responded to it or even looked in his direction.

“You didn’t check on her that long ago,” Elly growled, “How could she even have escaped, hurt herself somehow, and come back in—”

“Aren’t we going to _do_ something?! She needs _medical attention_!” June screamed back. “You know, _doctors_?! The hospital?! Where they keep _medicine_?!”

“Well just how the hell could she have gotten—”

The conversation continued to escalate, the five of them all shouting and cursing over one another while Rya lay on the floor bleeding and sobbing, working wretchedly to muster enough strength in her to shout out.

“Can I _get_ a word in?!” she screamed at last, though she was quickly losing steam. The others around her were yanked out of their own separate world of bickering for the moment, as if they had completely forgotten that she was there. Once again, Phil endeavored to lift Rya to her feet so he could at least get her lying on the couch, but for some reason his strength was mirroring hers if only because of his overwhelming anxiety. Rya clutched at her chest again, waves of pain undulating through her. “Can I fu… Can I…” Everyone leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper.

In the few seconds left of her consciousness, before her vision went dark, Rya thought about dying, she thought about the few moments she had enjoyed in the short week she had been alive, and she hoped against hope that this wasn’t going to be the end if only because she had no way of making sure that Andrew and Cassidy got what they deserved.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Phil moaned. He dropped to his knees, wobbling — he suddenly felt very weak, the woman in his arms taking on an immense weight the moment she blacked out. “What the—”

“The hospital’s two blocks away. C’mon,” June said, immediately launching into crisis mode. She grabbed onto Rya’s shoulders and hoisted her up like it was nothing.

“The _hospital_? Is that really necessary?” Joel asked, exasperated. He marched over. He didn’t even flinch when he saw the copious amounts of blood soaking her shirt, nor the stains on Phil’s. He tugged at the bottom of Rya’s shirt, squeezing it between his fingers. “I mean, I’m sure I could fix thi—”

“I’m _sorry_?” Phil said, aghast. “What th— how the _hell_ is this not nec—”

“She could fucking die, you heartless bastard,” June said sharply. “But if you think it’s not a big fucking deal because you can just resuscitate her or whatever, then be my guest! But I’m not gonna stand by and let it happen myself. Phil, grab the paperwork on my desk.”

“O—… Okay…” Phil said. He felt like he was in a dream. He did as he was asked, though, without argument; his brain shut off and he managed to go through the motions. He could vaguely hear Joel in the background instigating an argument with June about the repercussions about bringing a dead person back to life a _second_ time, and whether or not it would be “worth it,” and though the words were all words Phil knew and could ascribe meaning to, they fell through him emptily, the shock setting in and grabbing hold of him so tightly he couldn’t be so sure that he himself was alive.

Even though Rya looked to be seriously hurt, June knew this situation had to be salvageable somehow. If anything, she was so thankful that Rya was even alive at this point, knowing everything that had transpired so far. Maybe things could even turn out _well._ All of the guilt she had been laden with from the very beginning, the excuses she had given Rya before, the pitiful excuses, her inability to explain anything to her, knowing she had been a crucial component in Rya’s grisly murder, and knowing even know she could very well be again — all of these pieces together were what motivated her so strongly now to stop freezing up, to stop buckling under the pressure. She had failed so many times in being a friend, being a decent human being, and now she was given another chance she knew she didn’t deserve. She couldn’t waste it now.

 

Phil popped into June’s room in a daze. He scanned the room and the realization hit him that he hadn’t actually been in her room in quite some time. He then wondered why he had that realization in the first place, as if it mattered whether or not he was occupying space in rooms of the house that didn’t belong to him, or whether or not he was pursuing a stronger relationship with his roommate’s girlfriend. He wondered further about his relationship to June, and how she had been acting over the past few days, the cryptic messages she wouldn’t stop dropping and then not explaining. He couldn’t reconcile anything. It was too much.

He shook his head, removing himself from his mystified state, and stumbled over to her desk. There was a lot more paperwork than he anticipated. He confusedly shuffled through the various papers, skimming them for any seemingly vital information.

“What in the hell am I supposed to even be looking for? Why does she _have_ all of these, anyway?” he muttered angrily to himself. He exhaled sharply. “Gosh. Better bring it all, I guess.”

He scooped up the messy stack in his arms and rushed back out into the living room. June was already out the door, and to his surprise, so was Joel. In fact, they had left the door swinging open, much to Phil’s chagrin. He rushed to the door, cursing the entire way there. When he carelessly swiveled to shut the door, papers went flying out of his hands. He bent to quickly scoop them up, swearing more, and as he stood back up he noticed that Elly and Cassidy were standing around awkwardly, as though waiting for direction.

“You two should… Probably stay behind,” he sighed. Elly nodded weakly. “I don’t know how helpful it would be if all of us — if we—” He jumped as June laid into the horn of his car. He gritted his teeth, biting back a slew of snarky remarks. “I’ll keep in touch, you two. Uh, I love you, Elly.”

Elly only stuttered in response.

Phil slammed the door behind him.

“Good luck,” Cassidy said, though she was glaring at the empty space he left behind.

* * *

Hours later, Elly was furiously cleaning dishes, occasionally peering over at her phone to make sure she wasn’t missing any texts or calls from the rest of the group. She was trying desperately to distract herself, but was doing a poor job allowing herself to be completely unaware of every second that was passing without her knowing anything that was going on. When everyone else had left, she had dragged herself back to the dining room and kitchen, hoping that cleaning everything up would have given her enough to do and serve as as a good diversion — especially given that Cassidy had almost immediately taken to scowling in the living room.

Elly didn’t know what to say. She knew things had to be difficult for Cassidy to understand, just as it was for everyone else, but she didn’t know quite where to start. The two of them didn’t really have a relationship to speak of, just as much as she knew Cassidy didn’t seem to have any real ties to Rya. Things were just awkward between them, and she was far too scatterbrained to be able to figure out how to bridge the gap. Furthermore, it frustrated her that it was such an arduous task in the first place.

She paused in her dishwashing, suddenly feeling like she was being watch. She jumped when she looked up from the kitchen sink to see that Cassidy had in fact emerged from the living room, and was looming over her.  

“ _Jeez_ , you startled me!” Elly said. She tried to laugh, but somehow she couldn’t. She seemed to have forgotten.

Cassidy took it upon herself to do it for her, erupting into a strange trill of titters. “I’m sorry, I do that a lot.”

“Look, about earlier—” Elly began.

Cassidy shook her head quickly, coming closer and placing a gentle hand on Elly’s tense shoulder. “Do you mean the Rya thing or the other stuff at dinner?” she asked, with a smile.

“Uh, I guess, a-all of it,” Elly said quietly. She didn’t feel particularly receptive to how Cassidy’s voice had reverted back to its vivacious, pleasant tone from before, at least in light of the situation. Looking over her shoulder up into Cassidy’s eyes, she saw that the woman wasn’t trying to instigate; however, Elly wasn’t sure if she herself was in the mood for a rational discussion about the shenanigans that had taken place so far. She tentatively added, “I-I’m not really sure where to start.”

“Oh, don’t sweat it!” Cassidy said, almost talking over her. “I mean, any of it, really. It’s been so long since we’ve all seen each other anyway, and I guess it’s a pretty stressful time all things considered. I won’t take offense to any of what was said. Really. Water under a bridge.”

“Um, yeah. Sure.”

“Did you need help with this?” Cassidy inquired, leaning over her and staring into a sink nearly devoid of any dishes. “Really, you don’t need to clean up.”

“Um, I think I’ll be alright in here,” Elly said, nervously. “You’re our guest, anyway.”

“You know, you should forget about all this! We should chat!” Cassidy chirped. “Just the two of us!”

Elly remembered Cassidy being about as bubbly as this in normal times, but she still felt a little put off. She wondered if this situation really called for it, or if it was an appropriate way of lightening the mood.

“Oh, sure,” Elly said, not even trying to feign the least bit of enthusiasm. She really just wanted to crawl in bed with Phil and forget that anyone else existed, but that was proving to be insanely difficult the more time beat on, knowing that Joel was alive to throw a wrench into things one way or another. Perhaps Phil had actually been right to worry, and wasn’t just reverting to his old pessimistic ways of looking at things. Of course, there was no way for anyone to have predicted the events that had unfolded thus far, unless Joel had staged the entire thing. After all, he did leave with June to go check on Rya, and it wasn’t very long after that that the reanimated robot had burst through the door in critical condition. Still, what would any of that _mean?_ Her head began to spun just at the thought, and the distant memories of her tense conversation with June that seemed like it had occurred ages ago was nagging at her. She felt as lost as ever.

Cassidy didn’t seem deterred by Elly’s lack of excitement; rather, she detached herself from Elly and bounced off further into the kitchen, with purpose.

“Uh… We have some… Merlot, in there…” Elly trailed off, feeling like she was speaking more to herself, since Cassidy seemed to have her own agenda in place. She could already hear Cassidy fishing through cabinets and drawers in there, but couldn’t muster up the energy to go help her, the weight of all the other frightening thoughts circling in her head weighing her down. “I mean, you probably don’t know where anything is, or anything.”

To her surprise, Cassidy had procured the wine and two glasses fairly quickly, and had even brought coasters with her. “C’mon, let’s go sit in the living room. Take a load off!” she said.

She gracefully set them down the items on the coffee table and then took a seat on the couch. She motioned excitedly for Elly to join her. Elly slowly stepped away from the sink and went to join her. She vaguely wondered how Cassidy seemed to know her way around so well; after all, it seemed as though it had been years since Cassidy had even set foot in their house. She squinted at the glasses, suspiciously, trying to remember just when it was that Cassidy had last visited. Or… had she  _ever_ been in their house, in the real world? They hadn’t been close for very long, even in the past. In fact, she couldn’t even recall a time when the two of them had ever spoken one on one since elementary school, especially about anything significant. The more Elly thought about it, the more the lines felt blurred somehow, and weird fragments of memories from Bonus Stage prodded her, invading her consciousness. The stupid show couldn’t have had such a lasting impression. Not for this long.

She wondered if this was how Rya had been feeling this entire time, and she hated herself for it.

“That sure was weird back there with Rya, huh?” Cassidy said, voice airy and light. “I wonder what the heck that all was about?”

“Um, yeah… She seemed really spooked, that’s for sure,” Elly responded, woodenly. She studied Cassidy’s face. Just like Phil, just like Rya, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be seeing. Who was this person, anyway? Why was she here, in her house? Should she be drinking wine around her?

“Well, I’m sure it’ll all be taken care of.”

“That’s… What seems to be what’s going on, yeah…”

“Anyway, enough about that,” Cassidy said. “I’m sure we don’t need to fret anymore about it since the others seem to have it handled. So let’s talk more about you! You can hardly get a word in with the guys around!”

Elly chuckled bitterly, the many scripts she had painstakingly written — only for them to be trashed in favor of one of Joel’s many contrived plots — still circling in her brain, waiting for their chance to be immortalized. A chance that would, of course, never come.

“I’m just so glad that despite everything, you seem to be doing so well, still,” Cassidy continued. “I mean, wow, married and everything!”

Elly smiled weakly. She wasn’t sure how backhanded ‘despite everything’ was supposed to be, or if she was supposed to take that at face value. “Yeah, thanks. It’s a shame you had to miss the wedding, and all,” she said. “I… It’s funny, Phil and I were talking about it earlier and I could’ve sworn that you were there.”

Cassidy snickered, moving to pour them both a generous amount of Merlot. Elly nodded in thanks, raising the glass to her lips as Cassidy pulled the bottle away and placed it on the table. “That’s sweet of you to say, Elly. I think. I would have liked to have come. You looked beautiful. I saw the photos.”

“I, thank you, uh… Oh, you did?” Elly smiled once more, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. For some reason, she waited until Cassidy took a sip of the wine before she felt moved to have some of her own. She remembered June’s ‘poison’ comment. She shook her head. “We sent you some photos then, didn’t we?”

“Mmm. Well, how have things been, anyway?”

“Um, well you know! I mean, you know things have been pretty great recently, other than the whole…” Elly cringed, then closed her eyes. There was a deep shudder within her that threatened to completely overtake her. She took a deep breath, then sipped her wine. “I’m… No. Things are great. They’re just fine.”

Cassidy smiled pleasantly. “Can we be honest, and can I get real with you?”

Elly closed her eyes and shook her head again as though she weren’t agreeing, but she smiled back. “Um, yeah, I don’t… I don’t see why not.” Her tone had not an ounce of confidence in it.

Cassidy ate it up. “You know! I just wanted to ask you a question, and it’s going to sound really blunt.”

“Well, it kinda sounds like you’re going to ask it anyway,” Elly said. There was an edge of irritation to her voice, but she tried to play it off as high-spirited sassiness. She wasn’t quite liking their dynamic so far, just the two of them. She needed someone else here with her, but it was hopeless. She was already trapped in this conversation that she dreaded every part of, and she didn’t have the confidence to stop it.

“I mean, why Phil, anyway? I thought you got sick of him after high school, and all,” Cassidy said, wasting no time in laying it on thick.

Elly laughed nervously. “I don’t know why everyone is so weirded out by it,” she said. She felt embarrassed. And then she felt indignant. The words came spilling out of her, as though she had already helped herself to a few generous glasses of wine. Something else within her burned, but it wasn’t the alcohol. “I mean, yeah, so, I was a total ass to him, and he was strange and desperate… And? What guy _isn’t_? I mean, jeez! I’m a _catch_ , aren’t I? A-and, the thing is though, Andrew was just a freakin’ asshole, you know? People didn’t know that, didn’t ask about it, didn’t care about it, y’know? I-I mean, what it comes down to is, I stayed with him longer than I should’ve, and I even tried breaking up with him once, do you remember that at all?”

Cassidy raised her glass to take a sip, but lowered it again before the glass even touched her lips. “Y… yeah, vaguely. What happened, anyway?”

Elly chewed on her lower lip. She felt herself getting embarrassed again for rambling so much. Why did she feel so defensive? What did she have to prove? She found herself digging up even more memories that she didn’t necessarily want to touch with a fifty-foot pole. But she knew if she danced around it, she would just make Cassidy more curious. If anything, she was sort of happy that Cassidy even _had_ a curiosity to sate; aside from Phil, she didn’t really have anyone to confide in. Joel was painfully apathetic or cruel, for one thing. She had never been close to June. And even with Rya here finally, she felt alone.

After another moment, she began, slowly, “I… I dunno. I broke up with him, knowing I needed time to myself, right? Things were getting so crazy by the end of it all, anyway. I wasn’t actually as into him as he was me… I was just waiting for Joel to love me back. Which… I know that’s not a good reason, and it’s a horrible thing to string someone along like that, but… I’m not sure I even realized just how badly I had sunk.

“And when Joel finally shut me down like that, something inside me just _changed._ I knew I had to work on myself more than anything. I needed a break. And… Somehow he… Andrew, I mean… He just… He was so upset by it, I don’t know. I guess it really messed him up, but he loved someone — desperately — someone that didn’t love him the same way. Just like I was doing, you know, with Joel. It’s hurtful and it’s not fun, but c’mon! It happens! And… I was just so screwed up by everything, that before I knew it… I just went back to Andrew, almost without a second thought, and I’m not even really sure why. It was almost like I was tricked. I guess he just gaslighted me that badly that I didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“All of that, that was in the simulation anyway. Being in the simulation is a lot different than real life, I’ve found. I mean, it seems obvious, but it’s true. I mean, you should at least know a little bit, having been in there too, but you weren’t in there for as long, right? I mean, when did you even get in there?” Elly paused her lengthy story to ask Cassidy this question, suddenly intrigued by something she hadn’t realized that she had no clue about.

Cassidy smiled weakly. “Um, it wasn’t long. Around the seventieth episode or so. Joel invited me in, y’know, in between episodes and thought I would shake things up a bit.”

Elly waited a moment, to see if perhaps Cassidy would add more, but that was it. However, Elly was pleasantly satisfied by this terse response, if only in the simplest sense of asking a question and getting a straight answer for it. She continued, “Well, then you know at least a little bit. But you get into this weird mindset, I mean… I had been in there so long, that I had completely forgotten about my real life. The first couple months or so, I hadn’t even realized… I mean, it was like my mind could barely comprehend that I was literally inside of a cartoon. It just… I mean, pardon my French, but it _fucks_ with you a lot. And- and maybe that’s just part of it, y’know? I mean I started dating Andrew in there anyway, so maybe it was doomed from the start, maybe the whole thing was just a joke. I don’t know. You know?

“Anyway… The point is, the guys I dated before were assholes. And Phil and I had only dated a short time in high school.” At last, Elly sighed heavily.

The green-haired woman felt suddenly light, as if this whole rant had been sitting on her chest for years weighing her down. She was surprised that it ended up being Cassidy to hear it, especially given that Cassidy supposedly had an actual part of it. Even despite this, she still just seemed to have the role of an outside observer rather than a participant in any of the shenanigans that took place in Bonus Stage. She struggled to remember even still. And why did she trust her now, even knowing that she was filling herself up with a generous amount of wine?

“You and Phil dated in high school?” Cassidy asked, as though she were surprised. Elly nodded, almost ready to launch into another full-blown story, but Cassidy waved her arms dismissively. “Uh, no. Duh, I was there. I remember that much, silly. I know we weren’t really friends or anything, but I still remember.”

“Oh…” Elly said quietly. She looked to the ground, embarrassed. She hadn’t even thought of that. In fact, she really couldn’t remember Cassidy having any sort of presence in her high school life. It was bad enough trying to apply memories of her to the show without having to think about her life before, which was even more of a blur anymore.

“You were on a roll there, buddy,” Cassidy said, elbowing Elly playfully. “You don’t have to stop talking. I was just teasing you. I know you and Phil had dated in high school. And that didn’t last for whatever reason. I wasn’t super clear on it, but it’s fine. Go ahead. What happened then?”

Elly was already flustered beyond saving, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get back into the groove she was before. She tried anyway, saying, “I know, I was just… Well, I guess I just decided to give him… Phil, another chance, you know? I mean, after the whole Andrew mess. I don’t really wanna talk about high school stuff necessarily, I-I mean it was such a short time, I ended up dating someone else but… I don’t know. That doesn’t matter. But I know, it’s probably really dumb. But- But I actually feel pretty happy, now! I feel more balanced.”

“Balanced, huh? That sure is a way to put that,” Cassidy said. She smirked. She was loving this side of Elly, this woman who usually at least had the appearance of being self-assured, with at least a _little_ bit of her life together. This Elly was fumbling and rambling without direction, grasping at anything to try and defend her own choices, and it was easy to challenge her even with tiny side comments.

“What are you… huh? Yeah, that’s the word I used.” Elly side-eyed her. She was starting to feel like she had a reason to be indignant and defensive. She sipped at her wine, its bitterness hardly a match for her own.

“I guess because I have never actually seen you two have a _good_ interaction after high school,” Cassidy said. This much was true at least, but it was a button to be pushed nonetheless. The truth was funny that way.

“Just because you never saw it doesn’t mean that—”

“Especially on the show,” Cassidy insisted, cutting her off. “No, no, you were _hellbent_ on making Phil feel worthless. Constantly. And he had made it pretty clear how he felt about you.”

“Um… You know, part of it was just the genre.”

“That’s bullshit if I ever heard it! Genre? Please, as if we all had that level of awareness. You lived and breathed it, don’t even lie. I mean, you said it yourself. You didn’t even know you were in a cartoon until twenty-five weeks in.”

“That’s… Wow.” Elly was taken aback by this sudden turnaround. A million thoughts raced through her head, along with her own depository of insults and comebacks, and in a few seconds she had fished through and discarded about ten of them.

“Elly, I’m just screwing with you. Congratulations.” Cassidy raised her wine glass up to Elly, encouraging her to toast.

Elly obliged, bashfully. Immediately after their glasses touched, resounding with a harmonious clink, the two of them went to drink, although Elly took a more generous swig.

“Sorry. I’m just a bit shaken up still, I guess,” Elly sighed. “I don’t mean to have a stick up my ass about it. I just hate to feel like I need to defend myself. I mean, Phil _is_ really special, Cassidy… I don’t know. I don’t know why, but I feel like nobody knows how special Phil is.”

Cassidy’s mouth curled into a grin, but her smile did not at all reach her eyes. “Is that so?”

Elly nodded, continuing, “Plus, I mean… With Rya coming and all, it’s just really thrown a wrench in things, having to justify things I never expected to justify to people I didn’t think mattered, and then there’s this weird deal with the cat, a-and so likewise I’ve been more on edge.”

Cassidy leaned over and gently patted Elly’s back. Then she grabbed the bottle and poured Elly more wine, as she noticed the woman was in desperate need. “You’re doing all that you can, Elly! Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m only glad that you _don’t_ have kids simply for the fact that this would be something you’d have to explain to _them._ I mean, God forbid, right?”

Elly’s eyes widened comically, and she shot her hands up to her face. Through her hands, she mumbled excitedly, “Gosh, you’re right! Why didn’t I think of that?! That would’ve been… Oh my gosh, I don’t even know!”

“I mean, look at how it’s been handled _so_ far. Obviously I don’t know everything, but just from this tiny portion, it’s been… well, disastrous,” Cassidy said. “I-I mean, like I’ve said, you’ve handled it about as well as anyone could. I admire you for that much. Really.”

“You really mean that?” Elly murmured, lowering her hands to her lap. Almost immediately, she began twiddling her thumbs. She needed to do something with her hands, anything to get out that sudden urge to fidget.

“Of course I do. I have no reason to lie to you,” Cassidy said. She placed a hand over Elly’s anxious fingers.

Elly bit her lip. “Y’know… Speaking of uh, Rya. There’s something that _has_ been bothering me, though. Something I have wanted to talk about.”

Cassidy withdrew her hand like she had been burned, though the pleasant smile that had been on her lips did not waver. She said nothing; instead, she studied Elly’s strange expression that was forming as the thoughts came together cohesively in her head.

Elly continued to muse for a moment more, drinking more. At the beginning of the conversation, her anxiety about whether or not she should be drinking so carelessly around this strange woman had made her cautious. But her defenses had been knocked down so quickly she couldn’t even recall the nervousness, at least as it pertained to Cassidy specifically.

At last she asked, “When Rya came in earlier, I think I sorta remember her saying that she was attacked by uh, Andrew? And that he was working with you, or something?” She smiled weakly, feeling silly again if only because Cassidy didn’t leap to interrupt and contradict her. “Uh, do you know what the hell _that’s_ about?”

Cassidy laughed loudly, startlingly. “Please. I don’t know what the hell goes through her head. She must be getting things mixed up in her brain, like — maybe she still thinks she’s in the simulation or something. God. Right? I mean maybe what you experienced is like that tenfold for her.”

“Okay, yeah, but… She never lived _outside_ of the simulation,” Elly said. “I guess that’s what we’re all grappling with. And what she has to deal with. She hasn’t… Y’know, _lived._ She’s barely figured out the body she has.”

“Right, and that’s exactly my point,” Cassidy said, like it had been obvious all along. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

“I-I know, but I mean, where the hell could that have come from? Y’know? I just… I can’t believe Rya said those things about you, though,” Elly fumbled. She was still fighting to clear the otherwise blurry image of Cassidy in her mind, the image that was getting blurrier still because of the alcohol. If she couldn’t trust her own memories, how could she so hastily shut down Rya? What Cassidy was saying was valid, sure, but it also completely discredited her to a point that Elly wasn’t sure she could get behind. Elly wasn’t even sure why she was looking either to comfort Cassidy or to garner comfort _from_ Cassidy either, considering she was the accused. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go, was it?

“Yeah, I know,” Cassidy chuckled. She rolled her eyes dramatically, for emphasis. “That’s exactly it. I think she’s gone a little… Off the rails. Well, I mean, was she ever really _on_ the rails to begin with? Is that appropriate?”

Elly took another conservative sip of her wine. She mulled it over. She nodded. “Yeah… I guess.” She nodded again, this time with more conviction. “Maybe! Maybe you’re right. I-I’m sorry. I feel ridiculous.”

“It’s okay. She was always having such outrageous reactions to everything.”

“Yeah? You remember that?” The more she thought about it, the more Elly thought that she had no reason _not_ to believe the things Cassidy was saying; after all, she was saying them with such confidence that Elly hated herself for _ever_ doubting her. “I… I guess you’re right. I wonder what really happened to her out there, then. Y’know, since it’s impossible for Andrew to have done something.”

“Well, obviously,” Cassidy laughed. “What the hell even happened?”

Elly nodded more, with more conviction. “Yeah! He doesn’t even… We haven’t even heard from him in years. But — but the here and now — I mean, it’s clear that she got attacked.”

“Well, jeez. There’s lots of crazy people out there nowadays. It’s a full moon, or whatever.”

“Is it really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Cassidy smiled crookedly. She said, “Well, I don’t know, but I meant figuratively. Who knows what happened? Who knows if we’ll ever get the full story? She was… Hysterical. No other way around it. I guess it’s just important that she turns out okay.”

“I… Well, I would argue that it’s understandable, at least. She got, like, stabbed,” Elly said. “That would make me pretty hysterical too. Who knows how much blood she’s lost? Or if any vital organ got pierced, or something? I mean, jeez! A-and we still haven’t even heard from, oh, God—”

Elly suddenly remembered her phone, and she did a quick, clumsy pat-down of herself to look for it. Cassidy sighed and thrust her hands out, grabbing ahold of Elly’s wrists. Cassidy then calmly lowered Elly’s hands to her sides.

“Look, Elly,” Cassidy said, “We’ll hear from them when we hear from them. It’s okay. And… Remember this: she could’ve hurt herself some other way. I mean, jeez, come on. She could’ve done it to herself for all we know. Maybe as a way of attention seeking. Don’t you remember Joel mentioning a suicide note?”

Elly was taken aback by this sudden revelation, like she hadn’t even considered it as an option. She was so hung up on the stab detail, perhaps still hanging onto that idea of Rya being fatally wounded via stab wound despite the fact that she wasn’t even there when it happened, didn’t have a chance to react in real time as Joel and Phil had. She said, baffled, “Uh, really? You think she would be capable of that? Or even willing to do such a thing? Why?”

Cassidy shrugged. “I dunno for sure. But it seems just as likely as some random person attacking her. Or for me to attack her. Or… Let’s say Andrew, someone you haven’t heard from in years.”

Elly shuddered again at the mention of her ex-boyfriend. The more his name was said, the more they even talked about him made her skin crawl more and more. She had a sick feeling in her stomach, and she wasn’t sure how much she could attribute it to general nausea from drinking so quickly. She studied Cassidy’s face again, and then inspected both of their glasses of wine. She definitely seemed to be putting it away faster than Cassidy. She felt embarrassed at that thought; she wanted to slow down and speed up simultaneously. She didn’t exactly want to be sober at the moment, but she was also holding onto the tiny fraction of fear of letting herself get too comfortable around Cassidy, more so than she already had. It already seemed like an excessive amount. She sighed.

Finally, she asked, “Well, but what purpose would that serve? Why would she do that, you think?”

“Uh, again, I dunno,” Cassidy said, irritated. “It’s all speculation on my part. I’m definitely not claiming to understand how her mind works. If anything, I should think Joel should know the most. After all, he _made_ her. He even raised her from the friggin’ dead. I mean, what the hell?”

“Yeah, but that’s the problem,” Elly said. “I mean, if we’re gonna talk about _Joel_ now. He knows everything, he just doesn’t _care_. I mean, he could have the damn cure for cancer but if it didn’t serve him in some way, he would discard it. He’s completely and utterly selfish. That’s something I had to kinda get over.” She felt her face get red almost immediately. She didn’t know why she chose to disclose the last part.

“God, what an absolute asshole,” Cassidy said. She burst into laughter. It was so infectious, Elly couldn’t help but join in, in spite of herself.

Elly calmed herself after a moment, strange thoughts coming to her again. “I just can’t shake that weird feeling Rya gives me sometimes. That I’m missing a part of the picture. That there’s something we’re all not seeing. You know what I mean? _Could_ you know what I mean?”

“Now I just think you’re being paranoid,” Cassidy laughed. “Don’t let that frame of mind get to you. That’s how you end up stabbed.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Elly said, laughing nervously.

“C’mon, have you really not lightened up at all?”

“Yeah, yeah…” Elly drank more.

“Look, I know I’m right about this. Never really knew Rya, but I know that this whole thing is just leading up to something awful. Sooner or later she’s going to disappear and commit suicide. She’s just _not_ stable.”

“Gosh, I know you’re right about that. She really isn’t. I feel bad for her because she didn’t want to be alive in the first place. I mean, call it being a whiny teenager, but this isn’t a matter of planning a family or even of say… An accidental pregnancy.”

“Exactly, Elly! Exactly,” Cassidy said. The way she spoke sounded as though she had just stumbled upon a great discovery — she sounded bright, excited, and yet just a little mad, as what a genius would seem to be. She continued, “You’re exactly right. I mean, think of it! She’s someone who by all accounts should _not_ exist. If anything, her dying would just be apart of natural selection. Nature trying to reclaim its power.”

Elly pondered that for a moment, taking more sips of wine. “Y’know… You might be right. No. No. It _is_ true. You are absolutely correct,” Elly said, though she wasn’t quite sure she believed it wholeheartedly. At the very least, Cassidy spoke with such conviction that Elly could see that she believed in her own words. That was enough.

“You think so, huh?”

“I do, Cassidy. I do. You know, I actually had no idea you felt that way about any of this,” Elly chuckled. She raised the glass of wine to her lips and inhaled. She closed her eyes and took a small, thoughtful sip. She was thinking of its aged quality, and how she too hoped that she were getting better with age. At least, that’s where the conversation had been leading them, anyway, even if it had taken a detour to detail Rya’s strange existence and how she had been trying to fit into their lives.

“You’re right, Elly,” Cassidy said, slowly. “Maybe you should have paid attention.”

When Elly opened her eyes, Cassidy was already upon her. Elly tried to yelp, but Cassidy was quick to muffle the sound with her hands as she pushed her forward onto the couch. Elly strained against her weight, but to her dismay, she found that Cassidy had a startling strength. Elly twisted and flailed, trying desperately to gain leverage somehow, but Cassidy grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked backward, snapping Elly’s head back painfully. Cassidy grasped Elly’s shoulder with one hand and slammed her face down onto the sharp edge of the coffee table with the other, forcing a strangled grunt from her. Elly’s glasses snapped on impact, and the pieces tumbled to the floor.

Elly quickly rolled onto her back, all while feeling her face for potential injuries, and possibly preparing to scream for help, when Cassidy fell onto her, straddling her and holding her in place.

Cassidy wasted no time in curling a hand around Elly’s neck, strangling out broken curses from her. She reached into her back pocket with her free hand and procured a rag soaked with chloroform, one she had made a point to prepare while the group had bickered over her, not caring to scrutinize what she was doing. She turned it over in her hand, making sure to hold tightly to Elly even as she squirmed desperately underneath her.

Cassidy pressed it firmly to Elly’s face. Elly continued to struggle beneath her until she breathed in enough fumes to render her unconscious. When she went limp, Cassidy yawned, like she had just completed a tedious chore, and stepped off of her.

“Goodnight, you fucking asshole.”

She walked over to the window and peered outside, taking a cursory glance of the neighborhood. It was just as she expected: dark and quiet. There hadn’t been much noise to make. Even when people screamed and yelled here, it made no difference. They seemed to exist in a vacuum — they might as well have never left the simulation.

Cassidy strolled back over to Elly, crouched down, and hoisted her up over her shoulder. To her surprise, Elly hardly seemed to weigh a thing. Cassidy didn’t struggle with her at all as she left the house, a dark stranger in the night, and made her way toward her car parked in the driveway, where an empty trunk awaited her.

She casually reached into her pocket and procured her car keys, and with a click of a button had popped open the trunk. She tossed Elly’s unconscious body in carelessly and slammed the door down with a groan. She then took a moment to dust herself off.

“Nobody knows how special Phil is, my fucking ass,” Cassidy scowled to herself. 

* * *

June was the first thing Rya saw when she came to and opened her eyes in a yet another unrecognizable world. The burgundy-haired woman was leaning over her, her forehead wrinkled in perturbation. She gasped as Rya’s eyes slowly fluttered open, but she said nothing to give the ex-robot a chance to orient herself and perhaps speak for herself. As Rya’s vision adjusted to the harsh brightness of the room, she swiftly came to the realization that she was not at home — if she could, in fact, consider Phil’s house her home after all this time. She was lying down as though she had slept, but she most certainly wasn’t in her bed, and she couldn’t seem to remember any dreams if she had any to speak of. Not to mention she did not feel rested in the least, as exhaustion still threatened to shut her eyes, perhaps for good. Although, she wasn’t sure if that was mental or not. At last, Rya peered down to see that she was covered in thin, nondescript sheets, and that she appeared to be hooked up to something, perhaps an IV of some sort.

“Rya, you’re awake!” a voice rang out.

Startled because the voice did not seem to come from June, Rya turned her head to see Phil standing on the other side of her bed. She opened her mouth as though she were going to address him, but she instead turned her head back to June.

“Why the _fuck_ did _you_ come?” Rya spat, a strange mixture of fear and hatred in her eyes.

Despite how badly the words stung, June steeled herself. It had been an anxious couple of hours for both June and Phil, who had refused to leave Rya’s side while she had been out. The rest of the world seemed to move at a snail’s pace. Every so often Phil had considered texting or calling Elly or Cassidy just to let one of them know that nothing had been going on, exactly, but June had warned against it if only to keep him from stirring up more anxiety in his wife. Not only had Rya suffered some sort of stab wound, but she was dangerously dehydrated, having not eaten or drank any water for the entire day.

While Phil had spent the majority of the time pacing the room and muttering to himself, June had stood in silence, ruminating on the events that had unfolded over the past couple of hours. She was trying to figure out what it all meant. She knew, of course, that Andrew had to have been behind Rya’s injury, and that _somehow_ Cassidy was apart of it, but she couldn’t put any of it together. Their plan didn’t make any sense. And although Cassidy being at home alone with Elly had worried her, she didn’t think there was any way Cassidy could do something without being caught really easily. There was no way she could make Elly just disappear without incriminating herself too much. And what were her and Andrew supposed to do now with Rya hospitalized, especially if she knew this was going to cause everyone in the house to worry more about her and keep a closer eye on her? Once again, things didn’t seem to add up, and June struggled to put any sort of plan into action herself so that she might better protect Rya in the future.

“Seriously, why you?” Rya said again, pointing a finger at June. “Why did you bother?”

“Rya…” Phil said quietly, holding his hands up to quiet her. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Are you feeling alright? D-did you know? You’re… You’re in the hospital.”

“Yeah, I got _that_ much, idiot,” Rya snarled. “Captain Obvious. No shit, Sherlock, as they say. I could go on. But… Where the hell — what the hell is even going on?”

June shook her head and sat down on Rya’s bed, angling her body away so that she did not encroach on her space. With a sigh, she began, “I know you’re disoriented. You did lose what seemed like a lot of blood, but you’re mostly okay. You fainted more from shock than anything else. I mean, that and dehydration apparently,” she said matter-of-factly. “They don’t think you were stabbed very deeply, nor were any of your vital organs harmed. They just wanted to keep you to make sure, make sure everything checked out. Run some tests. Make sure you got up alright.”

The ex-robot mumbled to herself for a second, letting the words sink in. Of course she remembered being stabbed more than anything. And being dehydrated made sense at least. But she knew, too, that she had not slept at all the previous night, which she was sure had not helped her.

“Rya, I’m sure you don’t have any clue what happened,” Phil said. He leaned over and reached a tentative hand out to stroke her hair.

Rya glared at him, but said nothing, allowing Phil to touch her if only if it could make him feel better, like he were making a difference. The pieces came together a lot quicker than they had anytime before, the memories fresh, even despite their nightmarish qualities. At first she wasn’t sure if she could even trust her own memories knowing how much they had been misleading her before; however, her unadulterated fear and adrenaline had not allowed her to forget that she very nearly dodged a second death. The fact of the matter was there was no doubt in her mind what had happened to her, what Andrew had done to her, how she had gotten home after the fact — everything was crystal clear, without any of her emotions distorting the minor details. This was new. However, she also had a familiar problem, which was that nobody _else_ knew what happened, and it seemed incredibly unlikely that any of them would believe her. She already had her doubts as to how they would take it, and she had to consider how to go about it lest she get a repeat of the Cassidy situation. That notion scared her more than anything.

“Of course she doesn’t,” a third voice growled. Rya jumped again at this gruff voice, and she swiveled her head to the corner of the room from whence Joel was rapidly approaching. Up until this point she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed him scowling in the corner. Maybe he hadn’t been there this whole time, and had simply appeared there on cue, like he was only here to deliver a one-liner and then leave again to engage in some other wacky, off-screen shenanigans. He stopped at the edge of the bed and scoffed at her, obnoxious and petulant as always. He continued, gesticulating wildly, “Look at her! She’s all tongue-tied and pissed off. But hey. She’s alive, she’s fine, great. Gonna be better in no time. Now, I need to get back home.”

“What?!” June exclaimed. “ _Now_?”

“Wh— _Why?_ ” Phil asked. “Are you kidding me? What’s so damn important that you have to go home right this second?! What could _possibly_ be more important than what’s going on right now?”

“Plenty of things,” he said, nonchalantly lifting a hand and examining his fingernails. He seemed bored more than anything.

“I just don’t think I can let you, Joel,” Phil said. “Not this time. You — you don’t need to be constantly in motion. I mean what the hell? What the hell has even been going on with you lately? You’ve been so friggin’ close mouthed about things. You’re usually, uh, running it. Running your mouth. And telling us everything we need to know and then some. Actually, most of the time it’s stuff I don’t _want_ to know, like things you’ve done with my mom, a-and _then_ —”

Joel raised up his hands to silence Phil. “Phil, give it a rest. It’s important. Everything I’ve done so far is important,” he said quietly. He looked over to June, who was shaking her head slowly, bitterly. “ _Look._ If things had gone my way, if Rya hadn’t gotten… Whatever this is—” He paused to gesture wildly at her, and she glared in response. “Y’know. Things would have been fine. But trust me. It’s urgent.”

“If it was so urgent, then why the hell did you _bother_ coming, Joel?” Phil asked, pitch elevating in conjunction with both his irritation and blood pressure.

Joel locked eyes with Phil, fists planted firmly at his sides. “ _Give_ me your car keys,” he ordered.

“ _No_ ,” Phil said, firmly.

Without another thought, Joel briskly walked up and slapped Phil across the face, hard. Then he dug into Phil’s front pocket and tore the keys out. He waved them in front of Phil’s eyes as a token of victory, but Phil was still recoiling, with one hand to his cheek and the other shaking near his groin, as he had very nearly gotten groped by Joel’s carelessly violent hand.

Joel floated out of the room without another word. Phil could do nothing but gape at the empty space his roommate had just occupied beside him. June could only hold her face in her hands, although she knew deep down she was a little relieved, knowing that Cassidy was still at home with Elly. Although June didn’t suspect that Cassidy would try anything weird with her plan to murder Rya seemingly sabotaged, she couldn’t be too cautious. Truly, she had no way of knowing, and that fact alone kept her slightly on edge.

Meanwhile Rya simply shook her head, neither shocked nor upset by Joel’s abrupt departure. “I was hoping he’d leave,” she said. Her voice cracked a little, and she winced in embarrassment at her apparent weakness. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, tried to work through the emotions that were causing her face to flush with color. “Anyway, I didn’t want him here for this. Not sure why. Just don’t trust the dickhead. He should die and stuff. Anyway. Andrew stabbed me.”

“ _What?!_ ” Phil yelled, forgetting everything else that had happened up until this point. The words had come out so casually, much like a deadpan punchline might in Bonus Stage, but they still managed to hit him like a freight train. He looked to June. Now her head was raised and her mouth was comically hanging open, but she said nothing, almost as though she needed some coins inserted into the back of her in order to be capable.

“That’s what I was _trying_ to say,” Rya said. She cleared her throat a second time, endeavoring to clear out any choppiness in her voice, but she was feeling that unbearable thirst again. “But apparently he got me worse than I thought. Or… Maybe it was better than I thought. I don’t know. I’m not dead, right?”

“Well, to be fair, I — no, no. You’re not… Dead, no. And uh, I would definitely attribute you, uh… Freaking out and blacking out to, uh… Shock,” Phil said, though he was uncertain. “I just… I thought Joel said you left a suicide note. So I’m just trying to figure out what you mean by all that. What… Andrew has to do with anything.”

“Can you please stop talking like you know what you’re talking about? You sound like an absolute jackass,” Rya snapped. “I don’t know why I bother trying to explain anything when you’re just gonna talk down to me!”

“Can you please stop acting like I _don’t_ know what I’m talking about?!” Phil snapped back. He wasn’t sure why, and he was keenly aware that he was not in the position to be chastising her like he was, but she was swiftly getting under his skin in a way that he was uncomfortably familiar with. “You didn’t exactly let me finish! I mean, here you are, in the _hospital_ because of a friggin’ stab wound, or _something_ , and you’re yelling at me that I don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re acting like a _child_ , Rya. Please. Give me a break. I’m just trying to understand.”

“ _Phil_ ,” June sighed, reaching over and grabbing his arm. “Don’t. Please.”

It was too late, Phil was already knee-deep in his tirade, too far gone into his own rapid-fire line of questioning. “I mean, you’re saying Andrew _stabbed_ you?! What are you talking about? Andrew doesn’t even live here! None of us have seen the mouth-breathing scrub in _years!_ Where the hell did this even happen? I mean, what about the friggin’ suicide note?!”

Rya smacked her forehead. “What _note?_ Stop talking about the damn note! I don’t know what you’re talking about!! I really don’t!”

“We found a suicide note on your bed,” June said quietly, but Phil’s anger eclipsed her as he talked over her.

“Well, jeez, I mean, Joel said he was gonna grab it, I never actually saw it, I don’t know—” Phil tried again, but Rya’s glare bore through him and at last rendered him speechless.

Rya then met June’s gaze. “What did you say?” she asked seriously. She looked over at Phil again as a warning, almost daring him to speak just so she could have the chance to rip him a new asshole all over again. He was nearly tempted by the challenge, but he wasn’t sure he had any more self-righteousness left in him for the moment. He needed to recharge.

Meanwhile, June’s heart was sinking to the bottom of her chest. Did she have it in her to come forward and talk about the note? Did she want to perhaps continue lying, lying right to her face? Or did she have it in her to instead admit that she was the one to conceive the note, and convince Phil to believe her about Andrew? In fact, as Phil had said, Joel _had_ grabbed the note, but June had quickly taken it from him. She didn’t want anyone else to see, especially not to examine it closely and figure out the truth for themselves before she had a chance to explain. And even if she did want them to see, even if just to come clean, then she knew she would have to spill everything, all at once, which would be confusing and disorienting in itself. And _then_ she would have to admit her part of the plot, admit her cowardice and inability to help Rya once again, making a fool of herself.

Ultimately, there was no winning in this situation, only more heartbreak and pain, and June wasn’t sure how much more of it anyone could handle. It would matter not that she helped bring Rya to the hospital, to make sure she got the medical attention she needed in order to avoid serious repercussions for her injury. It mattered not that she didn’t want this to happen in the first place, that this was the last thing she could have possibly wanted for Rya, for anyone. The fact of the matter was that June was partially responsible for Rya _needing_ to be at the hospital. This realization hit June hard. This fact alone made it so that she was as guilty as Andrew, as guilty as Cassidy. She was the knife that went in, every single time.

“It’s uh, not… It wasn’t…” June stuttered, uselessly. She winced as she reached for her pocket as though the note suddenly began to burn through her clothes, through her flesh.

Phil waited for more, but June fell silent. He sighed.

“I mean… Regardless of how it happened — which we still aren’t done discussing, by the way — the good news is that it isn’t anything serious. No vital organs were pierced. Y’know, for once,” Phil said.

June scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to make a joke? Like is it really the time for that right now?”

“Well, _jeez_ , June, I’m just stating a fact!” Phil grumbled. He turned back to Rya. “Anyway, you just need to rest up a little.”

Rya held her face in her hands. “What did you even tell the doctors?!” she cried pathetically, though it was muffled. “Where are they now? Did you even tell them someone stabbed me?!”

“Well, we didn’t actually know what happened, even with the note, so… I mean… That’s kinda what we said…” Phil said sheepishly. Rya opened her mouth to protest, so he swiftly added, “But if you’re sure that that’s what happened, you can tell them when the doctor gets back! W-we could file a police report, get this rolling, we—”

“So _now_ you believe me?” Rya asked, lifting her head. “Does it even matter now? June seems to think it didn’t.” She glared daggers at June, who looked as helpless and lost as she had at the beginning of the conversation.

“Uh, what is she talking about?” Phil asked, looking between the two of them anxiously. He hated thinking that they both knew something he didn’t, when he already felt as lost as he did. “What is even going on?”

“Please don’t start this right now,” June mumbled. Now she just looked miserable as she shuffled her feet about awkwardly, like she were ready to drop everything and bolt from the room at any moment.

“Why, do you think you’ll get in trouble with the police also?” Rya shouted, throwing the sheets off of her. She moved to get out of bed, but then she winced in pain. Phil opened his mouth to protest, but she waved him off as she settled back in bed. She continued, “I’m sure you’d all hate that. I can’t believe this. I’m almost murdered a second time and you can’t even come clean. This is bullshit. You’re spineless! Pathetic! You’re the very reason why entire civilizations fall, why humanity has failed so much so far!”

“What is she _talking_ about,” Phil asked again, firmly, locking his eyes on June’s. “And _don’t_ get out of bed, Rya.”

“It’s not gonna be what you think it is, so save your accusatory glances, asshole,” June snapped. She looked back over to Rya. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t start slinging blame already. If you wanna play that game, you can easily say anything about the rest of the household. I mean, no one _else_ noticed that you had been gone for hours.”

“Yeah, but you _knew_ that I had!” Rya said. “You didn’t even _tell_ anyone else. And why is that, I wonder? Hmm. I really can’t even be sarcastic, because I actually haven’t the faintest idea as to why you would just throw me to the wolves like that. Under the bus. Off a cliff! Whatever.”

“Is this helpful? Is this helping you to blow off all your steam?” Phil cut in, desperate to redirect the conversation into more meaningful (or at least productive) territory. “I mean, we’re not getting anywhere! And if time is a factor, then we’re wasting a lot of it!”

“Well _dammit_ , Phil, so then can you please just _listen_ to me?! I’m gonna explain,” Rya said, exasperated.

Phil and June exchanged worried glances, each with their own history and meaning behind them. June wanted Rya to have her say, but she feared there wouldn’t be any time for her to explain her own side of the story without Phil cutting in to add his own ill-informed opinions.

“After June and I fought, over the stupid Cassidy stuff, I had to leave the house, get some fresh air,” Rya began.

“You and June _fought?_ You _left_ the _house?_ ” Phil exclaimed. “About _Cassidy_? What th—”

“ _Yes_ we did and _yes_ I _did,_ ” Rya said, mocking his choice of emphasis, albeit a little rigidly.

June hid her face in her hands. “Maybe I should take a moment to speak for myself here—”

“No! You’ve had all his time to do something, and you clearly didn’t! You let this happen!” Rya screamed again. “You’re basically the reason I’m _here!_ ”

June balled her hands into fists and began massaging her temples. All the truth inside of her was building steadily up inside her, begging to be let out once and for all, without interruption or contradiction. Maybe this wasn’t the time. But maybe there wouldn’t ever _be_ the right time.

“Rya, please, you need to be careful and not overexert yourself,” Phil said gently, placing his fingertips on her shoulder.

She scooted a little, slapped his hand away. “No! I’m not overexerting anything. I need to say my piece. You need to just let me finish.”

“Yes, but I also just need to understand the facts of what happened, right now,” Phil said sternly. “We can get to the ramifications of it all — what it means, your emotional state, all of it — later, but right now, if we want anything to happen — I mean i-if we want to accomplish anything, it looks like we have a limited window in which to do that. So we need to focus on fact and fact alone. Is that okay?”

For a moment, Rya folded her arms and stared really hard at June, who paled before her very eyes, and then she sighed. “Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

“So start from the beginning — but I mean a beginning that’s as close to the end as possible,” Phil said.

Rya inhaled deeply, ready to spill all.

But at that moment, June’s phone buzzed urgently, shaking hard against her thigh. She jumped like someone had opened fire at her feet, completely shaken out of her moment of cool, level-headedness once again. She felt her whole body begin to tremble along with the phone, but she refused to take her eyes off of Rya, who was now staring at her strangely along with Phil. The two of them looked to June with concern as the phone continued buzzing desperately, wanting nothing more than for someone to pick it up and answer, but June let it go until it stopped. There was a pause, and June was working up to a sigh of relief.

Then it started buzzing again. Her throat now scratchy and dry, June moved to extract the phone from her front pocket. In fact, she ripped the phone out of her pocket, staring fearfully at the screen. She didn’t actually recognize the number, but she had a sinking feeling in her chest that told her it was exactly who she thought it was. She looked up, and Phil and Rya were still staring at her expectantly.

“I have to take this,” she said softly, words barely audible over the impossibly loud buzzing.

“What the— _what_?! Who is it?!” Phil yelled. “I thought you were saying that — and don’t we need to get—”

“Will you guys excuse me for a second?” June said softly. “I-I’m sorry. But I have to… I have to take this.”

Flabbergasted, Phil continued to stutter at her. 

* * *

Cassidy had just finished hastily shutting the trunk of her car, and was still working on dusting herself off when she spun around and gasped audibly. Although she knew that he was coming, that he had been on his way for a while now, the sight of Andrew approaching her quickly, almost too quickly, still sent waves of shivers down her spine.

“That didn’t look like who I think it is,” Andrew snarled. “Is that who I think it is?”

“Where the fuck are you getting your attitude, right now?” Cassidy said, stepping forward and digging her nails into Andrew’s shoulders, wasting no time in exacting punishment for his continued failures. “I mean, really. That’s funny. You’re the one who didn’t _finish the job!_ How the fuck did she get away?! You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

Andrew rolled his shoulders and then reached his hands up to throw her arms off of him. “Don’t touch me, asshole. You have to understand.”

“What’s there to understand, dickhead?!”

“We should probably head in there, I-I mean we should probably be discussing this inside,” Andrew spat, nodding toward the house — the now-empty house that had all its lights on, but no signs of life within, reanimated or otherwise.

Cassidy spread her arms wide and gestured to the empty world around them, spinning in a circle to show the range of her disdain. “So? I doubt anyone around here actually has their head out of their ass.” She laughed cruelly, every single horrible year of her childhood stacking up in her mind to form the psyche upon which she currently operated on, calculating and vengeful. “But whatever. You’re right. Better safe than sorry.”

The two of them shuffled inside, their mutual hatred for each other fermenting. Cassidy threw the door open and slammed it shut behind Andrew, nearly missing him. He had to fight every urge in him to punch Cassidy across the face. They stood glaring at each other for a moment, as if daring the other to speak first, before they at last broke apart.

“So what the _hell_ is wrong with you?!” Cassidy yelled, not wanting to mince anymore words. She herself was fighting her own urges to inflict some sort of bodily pain upon Andrew, though she knew also that they both needed to keep their violent urges under control. If anything, they needed to conserve their strength for other battles yet to come.

“You get right to it, huh? You don’t even understand, so you should let me tell you what friggin’ happened, because you just don’t _get_ it,” Andrew huffed, adjusting his hoodie awkwardly. He started scanning the room, if only to get away from Cassidy’s icy glares.

“What’s there that I’m not getting? You’re a failure. She was all screwed up, I don’t see how she could’ve even slipped away in the first place.”

“Can you give me a damn minute?” Andrew shouted, his back to her, afraid and maybe even ashamed to meet her eyes. “And back off with this failure talk. You’re the one who didn’t exactly see your plan through to the end the _first_ time, if you do recall.”

“Why does everybody keep _saying_ that?” Cassidy sighed, exasperated. She held her hands up to silence any retorts Andrew might have had up his sleeve. Whatever they were, she didn’t need to hear them. At this point, she had probably heard them all. She inhaled slowly, counting to ten, and then counted backwards from ten. When she released the breath, still counting in her head, she said, “Just fucking explain.” She moved to go sit on the living room couch as naturally as if she lived in this house and sat in this very room everyday after work.

“Look. I’m as pissed as you are,” Andrew said. He shoved his anxious hands into the pockets of his hoodie, began pacing around the living room. “I had her. I thought I fucking had her.” He shook his head, and then looked to Cassidy, who had folded her arms, impatient for the rest of the explanation. “I laid into her, I threw the first blow or two, but I lost my balance—”

“You _lost your_ —”

“ _Yes_! The — the — the shitty grave we were standing on, it was as though somebody had been fucking digging around in it or something, I don’t know, it just wasn’t right! The ground, it just gave way and I stumbled. She rolled away, and…. And…”

“It’s been starting to rain here and there,” Cassidy muttered. She unfolded her arms and began inspecting her fingernails.

“The fuck does that have to do with anything? What are you, a weatherman suddenly?”

Cassidy scoffed. She slapped her hands down and stood up. “You dumb idiot. They don’t do any sort of upkeep on that cemetery. I should know. Don’t make excuses for your own stupidity. The ground was probably soft because of rain, and _you_ need better fucking shoes. Or you need to gain, y’know, some better sense of balance. My God.”

Andrew stopped pacing and stomped his foot on the ground, rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager who was just told they weren’t allowed to see their significant other anymore. “C’mon, I don’t want to hear this—”

“I mean, I don’t even know what to do with you anymore! I should’ve gotten a lackey on Craigslist at this point! I mean _Jesus!_ ”

“Will you _please_ just—”

“Andrew, I’ve had it up to here—”

Andrew yanked up his hoodie to reveal a wound of his own, shocking Cassidy into silence. Across his stomach, there was a large cut up to nearly his chest, though it wasn’t deep. It had about the depth of scratches one might receive if oneself had been injured falling out of a tree or tumbling into a thicket of some sort.

“What, so she stabbed you back? She had weapons of her own? She sic your cat on you? I mean, what?” Cassidy pressed, rapid-fire, neither impressed nor alarmed by the reveal. “You probably could’ve prepared for that. I don’t think that reflects any better on you.”

“No, you inconsiderate jerk,” Andrew snarled. He pulled his hoodie back down and looked to the ground. Sheepishly, he said, “I, uh… I fell.”

“You _fell_ onto your own _knife_?!” Cassidy exclaimed. She burst into uncontrollable laughter, and needed to sit back down so that she didn’t fall onto her face. “How tragically Shakespearean! Next thing you’ll tell me is that you were mauled by bears, off-screen.”

“What the hell is this?! It’s not fucking funny, you wench!” Andrew yelled, walking over and bending close to her, getting right into her face.

“I mean what kind of an idiot—”

Cassidy interrupted herself with a slap across Andrew’s face. He recoiled, bending over and clutching his cheek with one hand, the coffee table with the other.

“Anyway, we don’t have much time,” Cassidy continued casually, as though neither her laughing fit nor the slapping had occurred, “We need to discuss what the hell is next.”

Andrew, too, composed himself quickly. He straightened his posture and looked around. He raised up his hands in disbelief. “Not enough time? _Not enough time_?! So just tell me, why did you find it necessary to waste _time_ by talking to Rya all damn night?! And then you wasted hours talking to _Elly_?” he shouted. Cassidy almost looked impressed. He went on, “You know how much _time_ that cost us? I mean, jeez, you’re already getting your fucking revenge, I’m supposed to be getting mine. So what the hell is your deal?!”

Cassidy smiled. “You could say I was testing things out. Making sure I was making the right decision after all. Or, y’know, you could just as easily chalk it up to me screwing with people. I’m sure you had lots of fun talking to June, anyway.”

Dissatisfied with the answer, but not wanting to press for more, Andrew asked, “Okay. Well what, so she — Rya — she made it _home_? I figured it was just you here if you were gonna be that bold about dumping Elly into the trunk.”

“Obviously! How else would the group have taken her to the hospital?! God, Andrew, why didn’t you just follow her, after she got away?!”

“Listen, I tried! I tried, okay! She zigzagged like a fucking animal down the neighborhood, hopping a fence, and I lost track of her. Plus I was a little slower due to th… Well, this!” he said, lifting his hoodie again and gesturing at the injury. Cassidy rolled her eyes dramatically. He continued, “Anyway, she was fast! Much faster than I would have anticipated for someone who just got stabbed.”

“It’s called adrenaline, idiot. Plus you have to consider she has like zero strength. Without all of those gadgets and modifications. She’s probably all agility or something,” Cassidy said.

“So just to confirm, did she or did she _not_ make it into the house? Is she or is she _not_ the broad in your trunk?”

“You moron. That _broad_ is Elly, and she’s not dead yet. That’s another thing we need to deal with. She could come to if we waste too much time, here.”

Exasperated, Andrew shouted, “So where the fuck is Rya?!”

“She’s at the fucking hospital, you idiot. I told you.”

“She’s at the fucking hospital right now? Are you kidding me?!” Andrew yelled again, like this was the very first time he was hearing this information.

For all Cassidy knew, it might have. He seemed to be leaping quickly from thought to thought. His mind was more of a mess than she could have anticipated. She shrugged. “And what was I supposed to do, Andrew, not let them take her? She just showed up at the house, bleeding everywhere and sobbing like a lunatic. So you tell me. I was supposed to stop them or something? Flail my arms around and be like, ‘Hey, my idiot henchman couldn’t figure out how to stand or wield a knife, but it’s okay! I’ll finish the job!’”

“There must have been something you could have said,” Andrew said. “This can’t _all_ be on me.”

“And how was I supposed to accomplish that, idiot?!”

Andrew clenched his fists. He started pacing the room again, madly. “Maybe you’re right…”

“I know I am.”

“I just don’t know what to do from here. She’s gonna tell them everything,” Andrew said. He groaned, stopping in his tracks for a second to hang his head in his hands. Then he got right back to his anxious strides.

“Why the hell would they believe her? Plus June is there, and I know she’ll cover for us.”

“What makes you so goddamn sure?”

“Call it intuition, but I don’t think she’ll be an issue. I mean, c’mon. How much has any of us _really_ changed?” Cassidy smirked. She seemed to take comfort in this perceived fact. She ruminated briefly on her discussion with Rya, and how hard Rya had fought to truly understand anything that was going on.

“Well, first of all, speak for _yourself_ ,” Andrew snarled. “I’d like to think I’ve changed.”

“Yeah, for the _worse_ , maybe,” Cassidy laughed.

“Whatever. Anyway, June. I am worried about here, and here’s why: She has a soft spot for the undead thing now, I mean what the hell is that? She had no real significance or importance in our plot the first time and here she is acting like her feelings about it are important.”

Cassidy stood up again and met Andrew in the middle of one of his circles about the living room. She grabbed ahold of him and stopped him. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

Andrew looked uneasy. “I mean, when she planted that seed of doubt in Rya’s head and teased her about escaping the simulation, got her on that way of thinking so I could manipulate her into turning human for you.”

“No, you dumbass. What feelings are you talking about?”

“Oh, _that_. Jeez. Well, when Rya disappeared from the house, I waited around a bit, as you know. I tried to keep you updated with _that_ much, so you’re welcome. I saw June try and go after her. I warned her to stay the fuck out of our affairs. She put up a bit of a fight but she ended up complying because I threatened to blow her away right then and there. _That’s_ what I’m referring to. God. You should’ve asked.”

“I _did_ ask,” Cassidy grunted. “Why didn’t you tell me about that? I would’ve kept more of an eye on her.”

“Does it matter now? It sounds like she would’ve gone to the hospital anyway,” Andrew scoffed.

“So… What the hell do we do now?”

Andrew laughed. “Funny that you’re asking _me._ I thought you were supposed to be the mastermind behind all of this.” Cassidy raised her eyebrows at him out of impatience. He continued, “Okay. Well, let’s start with Elly. You just knocked her out and shoved her in the trunk. What the hell is that? What are you planning on doing with her? She can’t just go _missing,_ ya rookie.”

“What do you mean?” Cassidy said, in disbelief. “And what do you mean I’m a rookie? What sort of shady shit have _you_ done in your spare time, while you’ve been away?”

“Well, first of all, it needs to look like an accident, or else all of this is going to fall apart even quicker than it already is.”

“Well, jeez! I know that! I know that this isn’t ideal, Andrew!”

Andrew gestured vaguely toward the door, in the direction of Cassidy’s car. “Then what the hell is this? Is this part of some plan I don’t know about?”

“Look, I did what I had to given the time constraints. You knew going into this we were gonna have to improvise a little. I just took a golden opportunity I had alone with the moron. I didn’t think I’d get another. I was gonna just wing it, figure it out later,” Cassidy said.

“It would’ve been better if she had just gone missing or something,” Andrew sighed.

“Yeah. Only because I don’t think they’re gonna fall for that Cloaked Figure bullshit a second time,” Cassidy said. She laughed, heartlessly.

Andrew started chuckling too, but when he did, Cassidy glared at him. He stopped abruptly. “Seriously, though. What’s the gameplan here? They all won’t be at the hospital forever.”

Both Andrew and Cassidy jumped with a start when they heard keys rattling in the door. Joel swung open the door with such ferocity that the hinges whined as it bounced back off the wall and shut of its own accord. If Joel had known or cared about the conversation transpiring inside, he might have found his timing impeccable and perhaps even hilarious.  But as Andrew bolted down the hall without a second thought, as though remembering chores he had neglected up until this point, and Cassidy spun in circles trying to figure out what she should be doing, Joel didn’t even pause to make sure that the door had actually shut behind, nor did he stop to greet his guest, who was stuttering a greeting at him even though she knew it was useless.

Joel didn’t acknowledge her, might not have even registered her very existence at that moment. Instead, he flew straight down into his laboratory and went right back to work on the second corpse he had lying on his table.

After a long moment of silence, Cassidy sighed and peered down the hall, wondering where Andrew might have dashed off to. He poked his head around the corner, eyes fearful and uncertain, but after he realized what had happened, he threw his head back and laughed, boldly.

“I don’t even think he would care that I’m here in the first place,” Andrew said, mouth twisting into a sneer.

“Of course he doesn’t, I was just worried that the rest of the gang had followed him,” Cassidy muttered. “This isn’t about him.” A thought occurred to her. “Oh! Shit, Elly’s — Elly’s phone, I should grab her phone, from her pocket. I meant to do that. I actually meant to get it away from her during the dinner, but I didn’t get to it. It must still be in her pocket. I imagine if there’s gonna be any updates, Phil will be texting or calling her. And… Gosh, it’s been a few hours, at least.”

“Well that was _smart_ ,” Andrew hissed. He threw his hands up into the air.

Together, the two of them crept out of the house, knowing that Joel could at any moment come back up from his lab or anyone else could be waltzing through the door. They crept back out into the open world that still seemed so empty, devoid of any life. Cassidy anxiously pulled her keys from her pocket, knowing she had to act swiftly, and popped open her trunk. Andrew, seeming to be completely unfazed, stretched and leaned on her car, peering over her shoulder as she fished through Elly’s pockets.

“You could always talk to Joel, ask him what’s going on,” Andrew said, with a shrug.

Cassidy ignored him as she pulled out Elly’s phone and began looking through various text messages, many of them left unread. “I mean, if Joel came home and didn’t do or say anything about it… I mean, Rya must still be out cold or something. You must have _really_ done a number on her.”

Andrew’s expression brightened for a moment, but when his and Cassidy’s eyes meant, she saw that she wasn’t actually being serious. He knew she was still irritated beyond belief that he couldn’t finish the job in the first place. With a sigh, Andrew began pondering everything for a moment, laying out every option possible in his mind, though it seemed as though the two of them were starting to run out of them.

Cassidy finished scrolled through all of unread texts from Phil. “Oh, God. We better act fast. Things might actually be wrapping up soon.”

Andrew said, as though he hadn’t noticed what Cassidy was doing, “Y’know, Rya might not be dead, but maybe we could get rid of her another way.” Cassidy tilted her head at this. It seemed to come from nowhere to her, but she could tell that he had a thought process going, and an intriguing one at that. He continued, “You know what! I have an idea. I have a phone call to make. To one of our favorite people.”

Cassidy gave him a strange look. It almost looked like pride. Andrew didn’t want to read too far into it, though.

“Make it quick. Then you better get the hell out of here,” Cassidy said. “There’s no excuse for you to be here any longer.”

Andrew nodded. He flipped open his phone and dialed.

* * *

“Will you guys excuse me for a second?” June mumbled again, softly. “I-I’m sorry. But I have to… I have to take this. I have to take this,” she chanted dreamily, words barely audible over the impossibly loud buzzing.

“Thank goodness,” Rya muttered, as though June’s very existence was a huge inconvenience to her.

June scowled and rushed out of the room. She continued to fly down the twisted hospital halls, much to the disgruntlement of every hospital worker she passed on her way, hospital workers who were all in hurried worlds of their own, the passage of time needlessly zooming by. She hurried until she got out the front doors and was standing in darkness, frigid darkness. During this time the phone had ceased buzzing and started up again, twice, a constant sensation against her sweaty palms. She held the phone up to her ear for another moment, trying to take in deep breaths. She shuddered instead, her lungs feeling hollow, empty.

She hit the accept button. There was a click.

“Hey, June,” Andrew said playfully.

“What the _fuck_ do you want?” June breathed, winded from her dash outside. She held the phone away and panted for a second more, trying desperately to conceal how out of breath she was.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“What the hell else do you want me to do?! Cover for you some more?” June said, exasperated. “It’s fucking over, Andrew. You need to give it up. We’re — we’re at the hospital now, which I’m _sure_ you know by now—”

Andrew scowled. “Is it really over? Is that what’s going on? Jesus. What exactly has she told you so far? Do you have the cops on their way or something?”

“Did you, uh, slip and fall maybe? Bump your head and get amnesia, forget what happened there, buddy?” June asked bitterly. “I mean, what kind of sick fuck do you have to be—”

“She told you then,” Andrew said flatly. “Everything.”

“Yeah, idiot. You did a shitty job of trying to kill her. She’s gonna make a quick recovery, and you can go ahead and say goodbye to your life as a free man. I’m not putting up with this anymore, I’m not gonna be your puppet—”

“Nah, nah,” Andrew said, continuing to cut her off at every possible opportunity, “I need you to contradict her. Everything she says. Maybe get her into a psych ward. Work the suicide angle. That would be fairly easy to do, especially considering her… origins,” Andrew said, talking at her as though she had not said anything worth responding to in earnest. “This could still be redeemed, you know. This can be fixed.”

“What the _fuck?_ ” June hissed, in a strange theatrical whisper. She looked out suspiciously at the empty world around her, as though there were an audience concealed away somewhere, listening feverishly to every word she said. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes! This just sets us back a bit, so I need you to do this for me. And fast. We clearly don’t have much time, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

“I’m _not_ doing that. You have to be out of your damn mind. Wait, I already know that you are!” June said, talking faster and faster, as if it was the only way to keep Andrew from walking all over her. “Look, Andrew. Rya knows what you fucking did. Rya knows everything! And I’m not gonna defend you guys anymore, because I, too, know what you guys did. I’m gonna sell you fuckers out, just watch. I’ve been complacent for too long, and I’m not going to do it anymore!”

There was a pause, and for a moment June felt proud of herself, proud of herself for at last standing up for herself and in the name of someone she had betrayed for so long. She thought maybe she really had him in a twist, that there was no way for him to get himself out of this hole. But then, Andrew chuckled darkly, and every ounce of hope June held onto for a brief moment was extinguished as quickly as it had been ignited.

“You’re not actually going to do that, and you know why?” he said. “And not just because you’ve been involved in this too, involved from the very beginning?”

“Because you’re gonna try and kill me too? That’s funny,” June said, her voice cracking, shaking. “I-I’m gonna call the fucking cops as soon as we get done here. That’s it. This is real life, asshole. It’s _over_. Just give it up, you creepy scumbag.”

“Elly and Joel are already dead.”

The penny dropped; June’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re… you’re bluffing,” she said, suddenly finding it very difficult to take satisfying inhalations. “Y- you couldn’t even kill _Rya_ , she’s right here, alive, and why would you only just now be telling me this, I mean, h-how could you _possibly_ have—”

“Would you like photographic evidence? Because I have it on hand.”

“Where even are you right now?!” June shouted, the words bursting out of her, fighting every ounce in her to stop herself from becoming hysterical at that very moment. She spun around in a circle, trying to see if he were hiding somewhere nearby again. Feeling absolutely crazy, she could almost see herself as another person might be looking at her right now, an exhausted, purple-haired woman screaming maniacally into a cell phone, at some invisible monster. She felt as though Andrew could even be right behind her, breathing down her neck, cruelly whispering into her ear. It still didn’t add up; she was trying desperately to come up with every reason as to why what he said could not be true. But the way he so boldly said it made her want to believe him, if only because it would be more dangerous if she didn’t. She couldn’t act as though she didn’t.

“You don’t believe me. I mean come on. One blunder and I’ve lost all credibility? We already killed her _once,_ ” Andrew said. He chuckled.

“Cassidy did that. Not you,” June said with a hiss. “Don’t take credit.”

“Please. You underestimate me. You probably — I mean, that’s your first mistake if anything. Besides, even if you don’t believe that _I_ could do anything, I have Cass with me. Say hello, Cassidy.”

June cringed as she heard Cassidy acknowledge her in the background. She didn’t know how to process any of the information she was hearing. She felt like she were in a nightmare and a bad horror movie simultaneously, though she wasn’t sure which one would actually be worse.

“Your friends are dead, darling,” Cassidy breathed into the receiver, suddenly feeling impossibly close.

June felt that crawling sensation that one or both of them could be behind her yet again as all the blood drained from her face. She looked around again, seeing nothing, only nothing. Her heart started pounding, her breathing now out of control. She willed herself not to have a panic attack right there, but worried also about Phil and Rya inside, who had no clue about anything going on.

“Fuck. Fuck. Why did I leave Elly with you?” June asked, though it was more a curse to herself than anything else. Andrew and Cassidy laughed anyway, which chilled June to her very core.

All this time she was so intensely focused on keeping Rya alive, the guilt eating her alive, and she had completely forgotten about Elly, about Joel. Hell, she had even completely forgotten about _Andrew_ , thinking only that he had failed and that somehow Rya had managed to get away from him. She wanted both to crumple to the ground and to strangle both Cassidy and Andrew simultaneously, a strange incongruency of wants and desires making it impossible for her to move, impossible for her to breathe.

“So you’re gonna help us out, because you have no choice, as usual,” Andrew said, delightfully. “So here’s the thing—”

“I… I have a suicide note,” June said suddenly, voice cracking. She swallowed hard. She had to act, to do something, but the helplessness was taking over.

“A what?”

“Um, I, uh…” She stammered hopelessly for a moment. She reached into her pocket. She pulled out the wrinkled note with a shaking hand, as though he might be able to see it somehow. “She… When you left me back at the house, I had to do something, I… I forged a stupid suicide note…”

“What?!” Andrew said, excitedly. “You’re a — you’re a goddamn genius, you know that?! That’s _perfect!_ Use that! God, I knew you were good for something!”

June looked down at the note again, tears welling up in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks soundlessly. She turned the paper in her hand, vaguely trying to unravel it, but she gave up and shoved the wad back into her pocket.

“Just be a good girl and get that psychotic robot locked up where she belongs. We’ll take care of her at a later time. Although, y’know… Maybe we won’t,” Andrew said, the tone of his voice darkening in a sickening way, “Maybe we won’t have to. Could actually just leave her in there to rot, and with no guardians or anything to look after her, they’ll just have to hold her indefinitely. Does that sound alright to you?”

June was sobbing profusely, soundlessly, and she couldn’t respond.

“Y’know I always thought you were beautiful,” Andrew said, twisting the knife in harder. “I never thought that Joel deserved you.”

The line went dead with a click, but June kept standing outside the hospital with the phone to her ear, hyperventilating and sobbing.

A couple, a young man and a woman, pulled up to a space close to the front of the hospital and parked. They looked flustered and were moving quickly, bolting out of their car, but the two of them stopped dead in their tracks when they saw June, the image of a broken person, her face streaked with tears. They stared at her for a good moment, trying to catch her eye, but she looked right past them. The woman reached out and touched June’s arm, stroked it gently. June said nothing. She felt nothing. She watched the couple rush past the hospital doors, becoming enveloped in the world within, and they disappeared into their own problems, worlds away from June.

At this point, June still couldn’t be sure if she could put any stock in their words. How could she believe them, knowing how miserably Andrew failed at killing Rya, at how miserably Cassidy failed in her previous schemes? Not only that, but just knowing the levels of bullshit that the two of them had put her through in the past made June want to disregard everything that the two had said to her. But on that same vein, _knowing_ the levels of bullshit she had endured, knowing just how scheming and creepy and underhanded the two of them could be — anything could be possible at this point. And if anything, she needed to be guarded, needed to be calculated herself. She just wasn’t sure if she could think faster than them, be any steps ahead of them at all. All she knew was she had to get home, had to get Phil home, as fast as she could. There was power in their numbers, at least, and she knew that Phil would never let Cassidy — much less Andrew — harm a single green hair on Elly’s head.

With that thought, she steeled herself again.


	11. Chapter Ten

June desperately tried to read the room as soon as she entered it, but she struggled regardless even knowing her own emotions were saturating everything else. All she could really process were the facts of the matter, which included the image of Rya holding her face in her hands, the hospital blankets a tangled mess around her, and Phil sitting on the edge of her bed and staring at the floor, eyes welled up with tears.

“The doctor hasn’t come back yet,” Phil said quietly, though he had not looked up from the floor.

“I… See,” June said.

“Who was that on the phone?” Phil inquired, though it seemed to be more out of curiosity — or even sheer courtesy — than out of any concern.

“Uh, it was… No one, really… So what’s going on?” June asked timidly, still trying desperately to decide what she should do with the situation rapidly unfolding before them.

Phil and Rya said nothing.

June inhaled, ready to launch into crisis mode once again, but Phil startled her by suddenly stirring. He walked over to her and grasped her shoulders tightly. Rya did not move, did not lower her hands from her face.

“J-June, can we talk?” he said weakly, his voice threatening to break.

Rya at last lowered her hands from her face and glared daggers into Phil’s back, as though the sound of his voice triggered an immense, unfathomable hatred from somewhere deep inside of her — and for all she knew, it did. Then she pierced into June’s heart with the same soul-crushing gaze, the magnitude of it making June feel weak immediately as though it drained her of all her energy — though she knew she was already running on reserves.

“Um, yeah, sure…” June replied, dazed. She didn’t know what this was going to accomplish, and she was even less sure that she should be wasting time letting Phil unload on her, but she knew also she had no right to say no.

Phil turned back to Rya and met her eyes. To June’s surprise, Rya’s eyes appeared to soften dramatically once the gaze was mutual.

Though Rya looked into his eyes, she found that she couldn’t focus. After June had disappeared to take her mysterious phone call — which pissed Rya off, as what could be more important than what was happening currently — she tried her hardest to explain everything that she couldn’t when Joel and June were there to contradict her. Even then, Phil refused to believe, didn’t even truly _know_ what had happened in the first place, let alone how things had even come together. He was concerned, yes, which was what she had wanted, but it was so misplaced that he couldn’t actually do or say anything helpful. There was just too much he didn’t know, too much she couldn’t tell him, too much he wouldn’t believe — too much she _tried_ to tell him, knowing it was futile anyway, knowing that all of the words were to die in the air.

At that moment, an animalistic sob threatened to come out of Rya, seeming to come from that same place in her from whence she felt the burning hatred. She wanted to do something, say _anything_ , but she could do nothing but look through Phil instead.

Her heart pounding, she finally willed herself to breathe, impossibly soft, “I don’t want to leave you, Phil.”

Phil released his vice grip on June’s shoulders, lowered his hands to his sides. He looked to the floor. Though the words stirred something in him, he didn’t know what it was exactly that touched him, and as a result, he had no clue what to say. He couldn’t even will himself to turn to her, much less to look back at her.

As soon as the two of them were out of both sight and earshot of Rya, Phil immediately began dumping his tangled mess of thoughts onto her, having gone way too far into his own head to be able to make sense of anything. All the while, June struggled to quell her own mess of a head, to keep it quiet so that she might process anything that Phil was saying, which was already an arduous task in itself anymore. And though there appeared to be an endless slew of hospital workers and visitors drifting about the halls around them, the two of them felt as though they were alone, that no one could possibly fathom just what they were going through. Maybe that was true enough in itself, just as much as the reverse were true, that June and Phil had no concept of the suffering of other people — the depth and meaning of their individual lives.

“This stuff about the Cloaked Figure… About Cassidy, a-and about… Andrew stabbing her — I mean, I even asked her if she got stabbed by someone who just happened to _look_ like Andrew maybe, but, but — and Joel, she said things about trying to beat up Joel,” Phil said. He sounded out of breath, like he had reached the end of an impossibly long explanation that actually made sense, off-screen, in some twisted cartoon version of their lives. He continued, “I’m so worried about her, June. I don’t know where she’s getting all of this stuff. I have no idea what Joel even did to her at this point, what her psyche even _looks_ like. Is there _anything_ that makes sense right now? A-and furthermore, Elly has not yet responded to me, and I just don’t know what to do! Rya just seems so broken right now, and nobody seems to care or understand.”

June looked at him, studied his expression, though it appeared to be running along a wide spectrum of emotions. Regardless, the hurt in his eyes was palpable. Even with Phil having no clue what was going on — though at this point June couldn’t fathom it, she couldn’t understand just _how_ he hadn’t managed to piece it all together just yet — his legitimate concern for Rya was touching and painful on a visceral level. June knew that she cared about Rya herself, but she knew also that so much of that care was laden down with intense layers of guilt. With Phil, she knew that there was something deeper underneath it all, even if she didn’t quite know what it was, even if neither of them could speak of it. More than anything, she wanted nothing more for there to be just one magic word to make everything click into place, so that she needn’t waste anymore time on explanation, especially when Phil seemed to keep missing the point every single time.

Finally, June shook her head.

“I really do think you should just talk to Rya more,” June said. She sighed deeply, but it didn’t feel like enough oxygen. “And… I think you should really _listen_ to her. Without any biases.”

“What are you talking about, _biases_?” Phil snipped, clearly taking offense at her wording. “This isn’t the time for — for underhanded comments or jabs, Rya got _hurt_ somehow, in a way that doesn’t align with anything, and she’s probably lying about hurting _herself_ and there was a _note_ and maybe she just needs some intense psychiatric help that we just can’t provide, and—”

“ _Phil_! Please!” June yelled, cutting him off only after realizing he wasn’t just going to run out of steam on his own.

Phil tilted his head at her, taken aback by the outburst. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the fierce look in her eyes made him rethink it. Once again, she sighed deeply.

“I don’t know that you’d understand this,” June said, years of neglect and pain rising up through every part of her, to the back of her throat, “but sometimes no matter how much you might think you hear someone, you don’t actually understand _anything_ at all.”

With that, June walked past him, back into Rya’s room. Phil stared blankly at the space around him for a moment, perhaps dissociating for a second, if only because the words June said had made him question his entire life up to this point. With an annoyed groan, he snapped out of it and rushed to follow June back into the room as well. There, a doctor was waiting patiently, as though she had been there an impossibly long time. She stood taciturn, a clipboard clutched tightly to her chest.

June tensed upon seeing the doctor, but Phil looked incredibly relieved.

“Welcome in, you two,” the doctor said, trying her best to feign a bit of friendliness. It was clear, though, that she cared more about her other patients who had more pressing problems than this person who had merely suffered nothing more than an apparently non-fatal stab wound and the bothersome nature of her two strange friends.

“So, um, what’s going on?” June asked. She looked behind her, still plotting her next moves, thinking only of Andrew and Cassidy, what they might be doing at home. Having not heard from Elly or even Joel, June could only hope that radio silence was a good thing. No news was good news. Perhaps.

The doctor flashed the two of them a weak smile. “Well, first of all, as I’m sure you’re wondering, and like we had suspected already, she’s going to be perfectly fine. The wound could not have been more perfectly placed.”

“That sounds… What?” June asked, completely taken off guard. “Why would you say that?”

“Well of course it would be better to not be stabbed,” the doctor said, with a wry smile. It was probably the first fleck of genuine emotion that any of them saw from her. June wanted to roll her eyes to express her bitter distaste for this type of humor, but she suppressed the urge. The doctor continued, “But in this case, I’m saying you should definitely count your blessings here. There were no vital organs harmed. The blood loss is nearly inconsequential as well. What I was impressed about was her other readings. Her overall health is phenomenal.”

The words this doctor were using came off as strange, because her tone indicated that she was never impressed by anything, much less than by a used-to-be-dead robot that wasn’t supposed to exist.

“So… What’s next, then?” June pressed. She was glad that Rya wasn’t seriously hurt, of course, but she wasn’t sure what to even say. She wasn’t even sure she knew what the doctor was getting at. Phenomenal overall health? Were these even things that made sense in the real world? All of the other things on her mind had completely rendered her incapable of processing anything going on in front of her. Rya didn’t even seem important right now, not the Rya that was in front of her. It was the future Rya, who was still in danger, that was starting to take precedence in June’s mind.

Phil, on the other hand, was feeling embarrassed, and possibly wondering how he could explain to the doctor why Rya had such impeccable health — while also wondering just exactly what the doctor had even meant by that. He was too flustered to even ask and possibly reveal his lack of scientific knowledge. Surely there was some explanation for it, but of course Joel had decided to leave before enlightening anyone with what could be crucial insight. Of course. _This_ notion did little more than incite more irritation for him, especially knowing that Joel could so effortlessly and _carelessly_ create these supposedly amazing things and then care nothing about how they turn out.

The doctor took a moment to study her chart for a second, and then looked up at Rya, who now looked as though she wanted to leap out of bed.

“Okay, I’m fine, so we can leave now, right?” Rya asked hopefully.

“Mm, well if you’re feeling alright, once your… Guardians finish the paperwork, you’re free to go,” the doctor deadpanned. “However, feel free to rest all you like.” She said this with a knowing smile, thinking of how the group was paying by the hour to use the hospital room. “You can talk to the front desk whenever you’re ready.”

June grimaced, becoming suddenly impatient and prepared to act. The doctor briskly moved past them to leave, more than ready to shrug Rya’s problems off of her shoulders, but Phil reached a hand out to stop her.

“Wait, but I’m — I’m concerned for her mental health, doctor,” Phil said. “I’m sincerely worried that she’s not telling us the truth. I’m worried that she might have hurt herself.”

Rya’s mouth hung open for a second before she started sputtering. “What are you—”

The doctor stopped in her tracks and cast Phil an irritated look. “Unfortunately I have nothing to do with the mental health ward. You can talk to the front desk if you’re concerned, they’ll be able to redirect you to the right department.”

“Are you _kidding me?!_ ” Rya screeched, unable to control the volume of her voice. “ _This isn’t fair!!_ ”

The doctor spun around and shot her a fierce glare. She opened her mouth, fully prepared to chastise her for daring to be unruly in a place already so ravaged by stress and fear, knowing that even her paycheck was never worth the amount of pain she endured on the daily, but she was quickly overshadowed by Phil, who rushed to Rya’s side like he knew exactly what to say. The doctor eyed the three of them with caution and then finally took her leave. She could tell her services were no longer needed here — and even if they were, she would be damned if she was going to be the one saddled with providing it.

June herself was shocked that Phil had came out with this without any of her own prompting or prodding, though she actually wasn’t planning on trying to use the suicide angle to get Rya forcibly admitted. She also hadn’t planned on _not_ planning to do it; rather, this first act of noncompliance was not so much orchestrated as it was a natural progression of June’s building confidence as she worked to try and navigate out of this nightmare. But if Phil’s concern for Rya, however misguided, was going to play out in a way that would please Cassidy and Andrew for their own reasons, it might keep June out of some trouble, at least for a little while.

So June said nothing.

“Rya, I just need you to tell me the truth,” Phil said seriously. “I know there’s been a lot of confusing things going on. But if you need help, you need to get it. I don’t want you to miss out on that. This is… This is really serious, Rya. You could have _died_ , or been seriously hurt, and it’s a miracle things happened the way they did.”

“Oh please, don’t have an aneurysm, Phil, we all get it,” June said drily, placing her hands on her hips. She rolled her eyes and stepped over to the other side of Rya’s bed. “Rya, what I want to say is… I’m sorry.”

Rya at last broke her staring contest with the wall to turn her head and stare directly at June, boring into her soul. Completely deadpan, Rya said, “June? If I die, I hope you never know another day of peace in your life again. Not because I’m gonna wish for some karma to come around and bite you in the ass, no. It’s more than that. I want you to suffer, suffer everyday knowing that you could’ve done something and _failed_ , whether it was because you chose not to, or because your efforts fell short of anything that could possibly be considered enough.”

Phil looked taken aback, but he didn’t know what to say. June’s expression was unreadable.

After a moment of silence, June inhaled sharply, and retorted, “Rya, listen. I know. I know I’ve already failed.”

“You’re damn right you did,” Rya spat.

June’s voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, as though the words were too painful to say any louder than that. Perhaps they were a curse. She said, “I failed the moment I told you there was a way to escape the simulation. It should’ve stayed a dream.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Rya hissed, grabbing June’s collar and yanking her forward, “It was a nightmare.”

June ripped herself away from Rya’s claws, reeling. “I’ll lose sleep wondering whether or not you were up all night cooking up _that_ one-liner,” she growled. “All I wanted was to help you. And I’m sorry that things turned out this way, but it’s for the best. I promise, we’ll figure things out when we can.”

“That’s such bullshit,” Rya said. “I don’t see how you can lie through your teeth so easily. Even now, even when I’ve lost everything, you’re going to scramble to defend yourself. How can you expect your apology to mean anything when you still refuse to own up to what you’ve done? The damage you have caused? To protect yourself, and yourself only, like the selfish asshole I always knew you were. I guess you learned from the best.”

“I don’t know what you…” June started. “You really _don’t_ understand…”

Phil looked between the two of them helplessly. Some of the things Rya had been talking to him about earlier were starting to make some vague notions of sense, but he was still missing too many pieces to comprehend what was unfolding before him currently. He thought also of June’s immediate apology to Rya, what it had meant then. He knew the group in its entirety had things they needed to get off their chests regarding Rya, but he was seeing now that he was inadvertently blinding himself to quite a bit of it. He felt stupid. He knew it was his own fault.

“Joel may be what you mouth-breathing assholes consider a genius, but he has zero social skills whatsoever,” Rya said. “Whether it’s being tactless as all hell, narcissistic, or just plain self-serving. You’re all the same, whether you want to admit it or not. Whether it’s through layers and layers of self-loathing, or through Phil’s pathetic puppy-dog shit with Elly, it’s all the same. And if that’s what it means to be live, to be human, I’m not sure that I care that much about it.”

“Rya, don’t… I mean, this has nothing to do with Elly,” Phil groaned, holding his face in his hands. He didn’t know why it always had to come back to this, after all this time, even if it was somehow tangentially related. “Please, we need to figure out what to do now. Whatever is going on between you two that I don’t fully understand, there… There has to be a better way than this. If you feel well enough, we should really get going. If you don’t, I want to be sure that you’re getting the help that you need. And you might not even realize that there’s this help that you _do_ need, because you’ve been through so much these past few days, and you’ve been _wounded_ , Rya, and you can’t just ignore that!”

Rya sputtered for a moment before she began, “Phil, you _don’t_ get it, there’s so much June isn’t telling you—”

June’s phone started buzzing against her thigh again, and she gasped theatrically. Both Phil and Rya looked at her, Phil with mild concern and Rya with intense agitation. June shook her head, excusing herself, and stepped away from them. She could hear them continue to argue with raised voices even as she walked a decent distance away. She worried for all the other patients that lay silent in their rooms, silent like death. As she rushed back down the hallway again and stuck a shaking hand into her pocket, she cursed herself for allowing the previous conversation to carry on for so long when she could have been leaving, for the conversation in which she was about to engage.

“What do you want, Andrew?” June hissed, walking quickly and looking around suspiciously as though he or Cassidy might materialize around a corner at any moment.

“Just checking in to see how things are going,” Cassidy responded. “Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Oh, just _peachy_ ,” June said, balking at the murderer’s voice, the tone of which had such a pleasant and unbothered lilt she wanted to reach through the phone and strangle her. “What do you want? Really?”

“Well, did you do what we asked?” Cassidy pressed.

“We’re admitting her, yes,” June found herself sighing, without skipping a beat. She ceased her manic pacing about the halls, wondering where she was going. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the wall. The world around her seemed eerily quiet; in fact, her ears couldn’t even pick up on any typical hospital din or white noise that one might expect in such a place. Feelings of isolation and fear began to creep up on her even more. What did she just do?

“Awesome,” Cassidy said flatly, as though that wasn’t exactly what she had wanted to hear.

“Yeah. We’ll be tied up with the damn paperwork for a while,” June said. She was surprised at how calmly and leveled she was speaking despite all the other emotions raging inside of her. “Anything else I need to do for you, or are you done messing with our lives?”

“Mmm, that’s not important. You just keep doing what you’re doing. We never finished dinner anyway, you know,” Cassidy said. She sighed wistfully. “I really did enjoy your cooking. It’s a shame I didn’t get a chance to enjoy it more, back in the day. Joel should’ve thought of me before, y’know. Should have included me in the simulation sooner. Would’ve been more fun, maybe.”

“You’re talking out your ass,” June said, through gritted teeth. She hung up the phone, squeezed it tightly in her hand, wishing she could chuck it against the wall without any consequence.

She had known all along that she was supposed to be finding some out, some way to get home, and quickly, though she had no idea what she was going to do when she got there — especially if Andrew and Cassidy were hellbent on killing all of her friends, one by one — but her concern for Phil and Rya had kept her trapped here. Not only that, but her fear alone had threatened to freeze her in her place. Now, though, there was an anger manifesting itself inside of her, boiling at the mere thought of all the trauma she had endured just to get to this point only for it to be falling apart even quicker than when she lived inside of an unpopular cartoon that very few people cared about. This fury was the final motivation for her to act. Having some sort of plan didn’t matter now, especially if people were already dead.

She walked quickly back to the hospital room, where Phil and Rya were still in some sort of intense discussion, although it seemed to be entirely less heated now. Phil was sitting next to Rya on the hospital bed, as she had her head in his lap while he stroked her hair. As soon as they noticed June, they looked embarrassed and stopped talking mid-sentence, as though they had been talking about her. June refused to overthink it.

“Have any decisions been made yet?” June asked.

Phil and Rya shook their heads. Neither of them said anything.

“I think I need to say goodnight,” June said. “I can pick you guys up when you’ve decided, but I think it’s best you hang out here for a while. I think I need to see what Joel’s up to. If anything.”

“Th-that’s fine. Yeah, uh, that would be best. We… Or, uh, I can grab a taxi if need be,” Phil said quietly. “Don’t worry about the little details. Do what you have to.”

“If this helps anything at all, I wrote the note,” June said finally, decisively.

Phil and Rya both looked up at June, studied her bleak expression. The two of them looked at her with their own varying degrees of confusion, but most of Rya’s bewilderment was undermined by sheer loathing. June wasn’t sure if what she was saying would make any sense, but she was less sure she’d get another chance to explain. At this point, it was a take it or leave it situation, and she definitely had to leave them while she figured out what the others were doing in order to keep them out of harm’s way as long as was humanly possible.

June continued, “It… Was my idea, but Andrew put me up to it. Him and Cassidy have been calling me about getting Rya admitted.”

“Yeah. Please get out of here,” Rya said, nearly cutting her off. Her voice was still laden with hatred.

June’s heart ached at this final jab. She hoped that it wouldn’t be the last, as much as it killed her. Though it looked as though Phil was about to plead with her to stay, to answer more questions he might possibly have, June couldn’t stay. She apologized, as vaguely as she could, and left. 

* * *

When June pulled up to the house alone, she once again found herself unable to move for a moment. She killed the engine and sat in the deafening silence, trying to gather her thoughts. Most of the lights appeared to still on in the house, despite the fact that the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. It had been an impossibly long night. June almost couldn’t believe it was morning, or that she hadn’t even slept this entire time — that no one had. Maybe that was why everyone was losing their damn minds. At the very least, it certainly didn’t help anyone’s morale.

She couldn’t help but wonder if anything she had said had gotten through to Phil, despite how endlessly frazzled he was. At this point, she had no hope for Rya and her to piece together the remains of their relationship. But maybe if her actions kept speaking for her, maybe she could start to redeem herself. If only.

She scanned the outside of the house, tried to peer through the tightly closed curtains. If it were true that Elly and Joel had just recently been slaughtered here, would there be signs? There was no way, she kept telling herself, that they could have overtaken Joel and Elly. There was just no way. Certainly a lot could have happened in the few hours that Rya had been unconscious at the hospital, but if Rya could have overtaken Andrew, there was no way that Elly could not have escaped. June had way too much faith in her.

With all of these thoughts in mind to quell the more gruesome ones fighting to get to the surface, June cautiously stepped out of her car. She gripped her car keys tightly to herself, in case she needed to make any swift movements. Every couple of steps she stopped to look over her shoulder, to look to her left, her right, but everything was still suspiciously quiet as it always was. Was she imagining this, or was their neighborhood always like this? Was there always just something hiding under the surface, waiting to bubble up and reveal something more sinister underneath? Or was she just projecting her own terror onto an unsuspecting, unimportant suburb in New Jersey?

She shook her head. She couldn’t let existential dread and the knowledge that every single one of their lives were insignificant in the face of a cruel, unrelenting universe overtake her now.

June took a minute to stare at Phil’s car, and then Cassidy’s car still parked in the driveway. She walked over and scrutinized Cassidy’s, tried to glean whatever information she could just by how it looked, from what she could see was inside. It was relatively clean, save for a few scraps of garbage on the floor on the front passenger side. She ran her fingers over the trunk, her mind conjuring up unspeakable images of her friends’ mangled bodies. She shuddered, and then moved on.

Although there was absolutely nothing else notable about it, for some reason she found herself going on an entire tangent — about how Andrew had been getting around, if he didn’t live around here. Did _he_ have a car? How was he getting around? Was there some mysterious car parked somewhere close by that she hadn’t noticed, but perhaps she _should_ have, because it would have been out of place and suspicious? Maybe he still _had_ been living here, under their noses the entire time. The thought chilled her. She didn’t want to entertain it any more than she wanted to think about a grisly ending for her friends.

At last, June approached the front door, mentally prepared as she would ever be to face what was inside. June placed her keys into the lock and turned, only to find that the front door had been left unlocked. She pulled open the door slowly, bracing herself for what she might see, for what she might _not_ see.

Cassidy was sitting alone on the couch, head down, her hands clasped together. She looked up fearfully, until she realized it was June.

“Oh, it’s you,” Cassidy said, sniffling.

June tilted her head, closed the door quietly behind her. She noticed that Cassidy’s face was streaked with tears.

“Uh, what’s going on?” June asked, folding her arms.

Cassidy lifted an arm and rubbed furiously at her face, then flattened and smoothed down her clothes.

“Where are Phil and Rya?” she asked calmly, her tone betraying how distraught and disheveled she had appeared but a moment earlier.

“Don’t answer my question with another question,” June said. “I’m already annoyed. Where are Elly and Joel?”

“They’re dead,” Cassidy said flippantly. She flashed a toothy grin at her old friend.

“Bullshit.”

“Both of their bodies are in my trunk if you’d like to check.”

“ _Bullshit_ ,” June said, more firmly this time. She lowered her arms and clenched her fists tightly at her sides.

“So you don’t believe me,” Cassidy said. She placed her hands on her hips. “I suppose that’s fair. After all, you certainly aren’t still ‘tied up’ with paperwork, and I don’t see Phil and Rya with you. So clearly I was right not to trust you either.”

“You don’t know that. I did what you asked me to do. Are you done yet? I don’t _care_ what you do with Rya at this point. I just want you to leave the rest of us alone.”

Cassidy yawned and stretched theatrically, as though she were taking part in the most tedious conversation on the planet. With a wry smile, she said, “Mmm, our mental health resources in New Jersey are amazing, aren’t they? So quick and efficient.”

“I let Phil deal with it,” June said, through gritted teeth. “Big deal. He’s the one who _cares_ about her. Plus he wanted me to check on Elly.”

“If you’re lying, I’ll kill you right now.”

“I’m not lying, but what’s stopping you from just killing me now anyway?” June said. There was a pang of hopelessness inside her heart. It made her feel weak.

“You’ve been cooperating thus far, so I have no reason to,” Cassidy said simply. She shrugged. “I’m allowed to be suspicious, however. Guarded, at least. You understand. So anyway, Joel’s down in the basement or whatever. He came in a while ago, but he didn’t even talk to me. He’s been down there since. Does he have a bathroom down there? Food?”

“So you _were_ full of shit,” June whispered. “So Elly must still be alive then. Where is she?”

“I thought you had already deduced that or whatever. Don’t be so sure of yourself, though. Come and sit down.” Cassidy gestured at the empty space beside her on the couch. “Why are you still standing by the door? Andrew’s not here either.”

“Andrew’s not — wait, what is _that_?” June said, her eyes falling upon a piece of paper laid out on the table. She also noticed that there were two empty wine glasses creating rings on the coffee table because someone didn’t bother to use coasters. Phil would be _pissed_.

“Just a little something I cooked up in about five minutes,” Cassidy said. She smiled at June again, genuinely. It made June’s stomach churn, though Cassidy’s next words made it hurt all the worse: “I got my inspiration from _you_.”

June made a swift movement to snatch the paper away, though Cassidy did not flinch or even bat an eyelash at this. “So it’s a suicide note,” June said, without even looking at it. “That’s even more horse crap, if I can even believe it. How do you expect anyone, _especially_ Phil to fall for this? Especially because you were _with_ her the whole time, and he _knows_ that?!”

“Please. Phil is easy. I can play him like a fiddle. Or, uh, some other instrument that’s actually easy to master. You know what I mean. Besides, he won’t even ask the right questions in the first place. All that matters is there’s this note here, and Elly’s body is gone. No more wife. And soon enough, no more robot either.”

“Elly’s — Elly’s — _b_ _ody_ ,” June groaned. She gingerly placed the note back on the table, as if suddenly afraid her fingerprints could be taken from them. Then held her face in her hands for a moment, trying to understand what Cassidy was trying to get at. At last, she dared to take a seat beside Cassidy, though she kept a reasonable amount of distance between the two of them should she have to leap up and make a daring escape.

“Relax, we decided not to kill her either,” Cassidy sighed. She ran a lazy hand through her hair, yanked it forcefully through a mess of tangles. “For now, anyway. I just don’t really know what Andrew is planning to do with her. And I don’t care. I decided to leave it up to his discretion, since it’s his ex and all, and… Well. As long as she’s out of the picture, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

June bit her lip. There was a cornucopia of questions she could be asking here, but wasn’t certain they would get her anywhere. In reality, she didn’t know which ones — if any — would help her.

“So — I — you’re going way too fast. So what is the end goal here?” June said, starting where she could. “So… You’re — you’re gonna swoop to comfort a devastated Phil when he finds out his wife committed suicide, is that it? And he’s just supposed to fall into your arms? Is that it? How is that a flawless plan by _any_ means? And then what about _Rya_?”

Cassidy yawned again. June rolled her eyes, but for all she knew, perhaps all of this scheming really did take a lot out of the murderous woman.

“Yeah, so anyway,” Cassidy said, completely disregarding anything June had said. “So why has Joel been so obsessed about this Rya thing in the first place? I’m kinda curious about this whole thing. Like, why the dinner? Why the shadiness? I thought him bringing her back to life was like, it.”

June swallowed her anger, tried to keep herself calm. She knew she was useless if she let Cassidy get under her skin. After all, hadn’t that been what everyone else had been trying to do from the very beginning?

With a sigh, June said, “I don’t think that I should be telling you anything. I mean, he hasn’t even _explicitly_ told me, I just happened to figure it out. I mean, what with him not caring to hide anything and just leaving his crap everywhere for me to find. Doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense. But you know how he is.”

“Are you so sure that it was carelessness and not calculated?” Cassidy said, raising an eyebrow at her. “Aaaand now you have my interest piqued. I can hardly believe it.”

“Whatever,” June said, with a wave of her hand. “I didn’t even really mean that it _wasn’t_ orchestrated on some level. I know _that_ much. I mean, we’re the marionettes, he’s the puppet master. So, it’s not even about Rya. I mean, maybe it was initially. But if anything, she was more of a… Launching pad, so to speak. A stepping stone. To something else. Anyway, that’s about all I’m willing to tell you, but I mean it’s really all that I’ve gathered, anyway.”

“I mean, to bring someone back to life, that’s nothing to sneeze at,” Cassidy said, gracefully ignoring June’s unadulterated disdain for her, which was obvious to her both in the tone and in the actual words June was speaking. She grimaced. “It’s like playing God.”

“That’s what _I_ said,” June said bitterly, unable to _not_ play into whatever game Cassidy was trying to pull. She huffed. “But it’s… It’s not. It’s worse.”

“I’ll say. I mean, the implications of it,” Cassidy said. Though she was ruminating on these ideas pretty intently, she still sounded impossibly unaffected by the gravity of the words she was saying. It was as though she were discussing something only in terms of the hypothetical, with no regard for any real-world implications. Perhaps she was speaking with the apathy of one vastly unaffected by the circumstances. Shrugging this impossible world of thought off of her shoulders in one fell swoop, she continued, “Well, anyway. Do you have any idea when Phil should be home?”

Once again, June’s phone buzzed in her pocket. This time, however, it was just once, as though in response to Cassidy’s question. This time she didn’t jump, as it did not frighten her beyond her belief. Before she pulled her phone out, she glanced at Cassidy suspiciously, who at the moment appeared to be nonchalantly examining her fingernails. Maybe she was needing to clean out blood from underneath them.

“Who is it?” Cassidy said innocently, turning her hands over.

June tried to swallow a pit in her throat that had spontaneously manifested itself at that moment, at those words. She shook her head and took a quick peek at her phone.

It was a text message from Phil: “ _Rya told me everything. Got her admitted to a three day program, she did it voluntarily. I’ll be home in a bit_.”

June stared at the words, digesting them as quickly as she could, especially knowing that Cassidy was waiting with bated breath for an acceptable response.

“Phil just, uh, confirmed she was admitted,” June said. “That everything is going according to what you asked.” June cringed as soon as the words left her mouth. Maybe that was too much.

“Ah! Show me,” Cassidy said gleefully, reaching her hands out for June’s phone like an overexcited child.

June hesitated. She could barely keep her mind from going strange places, especially given that she couldn’t read Phil’s tone whatsoever, especially not in text. She kept talking, “He’s coming home soon, via taxi, I presume. Unless you want me to volunteer to go pick him up or something. I — I mean I could still do that.”

Cassidy nodded, keeping her hand out to indicate that she still wanted to see the text itself. June sighed, but figured there was no harm in showing her. June held the phone out, and to her dismay, Cassidy snatched it straight out of her hand, studied the words. She took an unreasonable amount of time to read the words, reread them once, twice. Then she furrowed her brow in consternation.

“Well, I was going to say that we can finally get this show on the road, but what’s with Rya telling Phil ‘everything?’ What’s this _everything?_ ” Cassidy said. She folded her arms and stared at June intensely.

“Um, it’s nothing, really,” June said. “I mean, Phil doesn’t actually believe a single thing she’s said, and I’ve done a pretty good job at making Phil think she’s crazy, and… I mean, I’ve even made _Rya_ think she’s crazy. It’s been a weird back-and-forth for a while. Rya’s been screaming nonsense, and Phil is just going insane trying to figure out what’s going on while staying about five steps behind everyone else. It’s a pathetic _mess_ , if I’m being frank.”

“That’s brilliant, June. I must have taught you well,” Cassidy said, beaming. She held a finger up to her chin and tapped it thoughtfully as she mulled over a few things. With a bit of hesitation, she began, “Well… If you’re sure that she didn’t get through to him somehow. I know that Phil can bend pretty quickly to women.”

June wanted to say immediately, _But he didn’t bend to you_ , but she bit her tongue, lest Cassidy cut it off.

“This can be saved after all,” Cassidy continued. She sighed blissfully, with an uncomfortable amount of relief. “I mean, you _saw_ how badly Andrew screwed up. I thought for a hot second we weren’t going to be able to pull this off. But damn. I mean, it really is thanks to your cooperation, you know.”

June suppressed a shudder that wanted more than anything to make itself known. Though she had been trying to turn the situation around, _somehow_ , she knew also that Cassidy was right — even if the ways that June was “helping” were completely unintentional. Whatever happened to Elly was a question still burning on June’s mind as well, and she was kicking herself incessantly for leaving Elly alone with Cassidy, still.  

“Thanks for telling me everything. You’re not so bad, you know? And… Thanks, also… For being someone I could trust,” Cassidy said. She smiled brightly and held out her arms for a hug.

Once again, June hesitated to go along with Cassidy’s whims, especially as someone who did not just dole out affection willy-nilly; however, she scooted closer and allowed Cassidy to encircle her arms around her. June weakly returned the embrace, and for some reason, the physical intimacy soothed her, even though it was from someone she knew to be an insidious murderer. Was she _that_ starved for affection? She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, almost _too_ contentedly, trying her damndest to imagine someone, _anyone_ else in Cassidy’s place — when she realized that Cassidy had slowly retracted one arm and was gingerly reaching into one of her back pockets.

The door burst open. June and Cassidy both sprung apart automatically and jumped to their feet as though they had been caught in an illicit affair. Another chloroform-soaked rag fell from Cassidy’s hand onto the floor. Cassidy nudged it under the couch, out of sight.

Phil stepped over the threshold and slammed the door behind him. He was breathing laboriously, as if he had run the entire way home.

“What the **_hell_ ** did you do with my wife?” he snarled, his voice thick with an inconceivable amount of emotions ranging from unbridled horror to unadulterated vexation.

Cassidy tensed her entire body as she took a tentative step toward Phil, perhaps deciding whether to fight or flee in that one second. She opened her mouth to speak, her eyes welling up with tears almost immediately, clearly born for any act that called for bursting into tears on cue. Her voice wavering, she whimpered, “Elly, she… She’s gone, Phil—”

“She’s ly—” June began, but she knew she needn’t say anymore. Whatever Rya had told Phil, he had finally understood something, even if it was but an iota of the entire situation. The fact that he was _here_ , seemingly alone, and that he immediately called Cassidy out, spoke volumes in itself.

“Oh no. You must have misunderstood me,” Phil said, clenching his fists tightly at his sides, “and quit it! Please spare me the crocodile tears. You’re not fooling anyone. Listen, I _know_ she’s not here, she can’t be. I’m asking what the hell you _did_ with her.”

“I should say that’s none of your concern at this point,” Cassidy said calmly, folding her arms, decidedly dropping the act. It was no use now, and she had to tread carefully should Phil throw a wrench in everything by involving the authorities. She stared fixedly into his eyes, reading his terror underneath everything else, honed in on it, played into it, _fed_ off of it. It was the only way to gain leverage in this situation that had been spinning wildly out of control for hours.

“O-on the contrary, I believe it’s _entirely_ my concern,” Phil stuttered, fighting every urge inside him to march across the living room and choke Cassidy out right then. “What’s the point in trying to evade it any longer? A-and tell me, why shouldn’t I call the police right now?!”

“Oh trust me, you don’t want to do that,” Cassidy said. “It is in your very best interest to not.”

Phil huffed. “What are you _saying_? Why _wouldn’t_ I?” He stuck a shaking hand into his pocket, fishing for his phone. He pulled the phone out and brandished it like a weapon, though his dexterity made the gesture much less effective.

June shook her head wordlessly, as if imploring Phil not to egg Cassidy on, to make things worse than they already were. But it was too late. She was forced back into that place of helplessness, caught between these two people who didn’t trust her, two people that had suspicions of her working for the other side. And how was she supposed to dance that line, knowing as far as _both_ Cassidy and Phil knew, June had been an accomplice or at least compliant with Cassidy’s schemes?

“Because doing so would be stupid,” Cassidy said. “If you do so, Elly is dead, no question. Think about it, dear. Best case scenario is I end up in prison and you end up with a dead wife. That’s _best_ case. And I don’t even think you really think that would happen in the first place. I mean, _please_ , Phil. There’s no proof here that I even did anything wrong. So your wife is missing. Big deal! I didn’t _hurt_ Rya. There’s no proof!”

Phil sputtered nonsense for a moment, desperately trying to form a coherent thought or to grasp at any straw he could so that he could contradict her and make this entire situation go away once and for all. It seemed that no matter what it was, he was going to come up short. He stood paralyzed for a moment, still holding his phone out as if putting it away was the only action that would make Cassidy’s words true. But he continued to shake.

“You’re fucked, in so many words,” Cassidy said. “So it goes.”

Bitter tears sprung up in Phil’s eyes, but he remained fiercely choleric, knowing that if he gave in to Cassidy’s mind games, it truly was over. Staying irate was the only way he could stop himself from crumbling to his knees at the prospect of losing someone he had fought so hard to get, so hard to keep. He finally stuck his phone back in his pocket, seeing the futility in calling the authorities, as much as it pained him, trusting this person he barely knew to keep her safe, if only as collateral.

“And even more, you have no idea what either of us are capable of. So calm yourself,” Cassidy said.

“What do you want from me?” he asked firmly, more like a statement than a question, although somewhere deep inside of him a more despondent, desperate voice was pleading the same thing.

“It’s what I always wanted, Phil,” Cassidy responded simply.

Her voice sounded painfully normal, the way that it had the first time Phil had met her in the simulation after Joel had brought her back from the alleged ‘Sea College.’ Her demeanor had bored him as much as it had infuriated him even then, if only because he had been so tired of the nonstop wackiness that Joel was subjecting him to. Regardless, Cassidy and Phil’s meeting had seemed so fortuitous, then, though now the memory infuriated him; in fact, it made him think of something else entirely.

“So where the hell is Joel, then?” Phil demanded. “Is he apart of this? How much does he know about this?! Anything? _Everything?_ ”

Cassidy face contorted; in fact, she looked more than disappointed at the direction in which Phil had suddenly steered the conversation. “You don’t even want to know what I’ve always wanted, dear? You’re not even a little curious?”

“I _don’t_ care what you want,” Phil said, pressing the heels of his wrists into his eyes and rubbing roughly, as though in attempt to erase the sight of Cassidy by force. He pressed so hard that when he pulled his hands away, he was glaring dizzyingly at Cassidy through a mess of shapes and fog. “Why did you _do_ this Cassidy?! What did you do with Elly?! _Why_ did you kill Rya, and then try to kill her _again,_ much less by enlisting the help of — of — _Andrew_ , of _all_ people!! A-and furthermore, how the hell was any of this supposed to get me to _love_ you? Are you _fucking kidding me_?!”

Until now, and throughout Phil’s tirade, Cassidy had managed to remain calm and leveled, at least in an detached, amused fashion; however, at that last jab, she stomped her foot angrily and marched over to him, rage boiling inside of her. It was as though the years of lying, hiding, and scheming had been a tightly wound coil that was at last unraveling without warning, all at once. And with that unraveling, the old facades she had assumed for different people throughout her life all disintegrated simultaneously as well, revealing an entirely new side of her that no one had ever seen, one that was parched for what it was looking for all along.

“It wasn’t **_supposed_ ** to **_happen_ ** this way, Phil,” she said, voice rising both in pitch and volume, “don’t you _see?!_ That fucking _robot_ ruined everything! **_Everything_** _!_ She _should_ have _stayed dead!!_ She should have _never existed in the first place!_ ”

She reached up and grabbed ahold of Phil’s shoulders, tried to pull her into him, but he just as quickly wrenched away and pushed her back as he moved away.

“ _Don’t_ you dare touch me,” he growled, voice uncharacteristically low and grating.

The sheer amount of force in his movements shocked Cassidy, and she jumped away instinctively, prepared to fight, even though she was not frightened. Though the unhinged part of her was clawing its way to the surface still, it was temporarily disabled by the power in Phil’s protectiveness, which she was counting on being eclipsed by his fear.

He then swiveled and leered over at June, who was looking back at forth between the two of them wordlessly, her mouth agape. During this whole exchange she had fallen back into that place of horrible inaction, frozen in her spot, afraid and helpless. As Phil narrowed his eyes at her and walked briskly over to _her_ , now, as she stood away from them toward the hallway, she realized her silence might have been yet another misstep in her many attempts to rectify the situation. She shuddered, realizing that his anger was not softening as their eyes met, or even as he quickly closed the distance between them.

“And _you_ ,” he hissed, pointing an accusatory finger at June, one that in the simulation he might not have hesitated to use to melt her into nothing on the spot, “I don’t even _know_ what your full part in this is yet, but I don’t _trust_ you. Don’t try anything funny. I… I don’t care what you told me in the hospital, I don’t even know how much of that was even to manipulate me, or — how much time you were wasting in the first place!”

“Phil, I…” June’s voice broke. She couldn’t speak.

She looked to the floor, wanting nothing more to contradict him, to tell him that she was a pawn to Cassidy, just as she had been Joel’s pawn, just as they _all_ had been Joel’s pawns — but Cassidy burst out laughing at this accusation, at Phil’s lack of understanding of June’s part in it all, at the absurdity of his anger, at _everything_ . She laughed so hard she had to hold her sides, although neither June nor Phil could tell if it were out of hysteria or pure malice, as she had just moments before at last lost her cool. In any case, June snapped her head up, shot an icy glare in Cassidy’s direction. Then she looked back to Phil, pleading with him, “Don’t even _listen_ to her, Phil, you don’t understand, and she doesn’t—”

“I don’t want another excuse, so don’t bother,” Phil retorted. “I don’t — I don’t have time for this. And what about any of this is _funny_ to you, Cass? And _someone,_ **_please_** , can someone _please_ tell me _anything_ worth my time?! And can I ask you both again what the _hell_ you guys did to Elly?”

Cassidy let her chuckles peter out naturally before smiling pleasantly at Phil, just as she had at the dinner table hours before — though it seemed so long ago now, as any fragment of trust Phil had in Cassidy was splintered now, and it was useless for her to try and salvage it. Somehow, though, she still held her ground, though Phil stared at her so pointedly that she felt she could not move from where she stood. Her body remained tense, still prepared to fight at any moment’s notice, but she had to put a lid on its violent urges for now. So, she inhaled, then she said quietly, “You can, you can keep asking until your face is blue, but I don’t think that it’ll get you anywhere, sweetheart. Especially with not how you’ve been acting. I’m proud of you for not getting any more unnecessary people involved, but you need to get ahold of yourself here, Phil.”

“Y’know, you didn’t answer any of my questions,” Phil said, folding his arms. “And _you’re_ one to talk, Cassidy. A-and what were even you talking about, Rya _ruined_ everything? She didn’t _do_ anything! Especially not in terms of whatever sort of relationship you thought you and I were supposed to have! Why would you even drag her into this?! Why are you even here? What is your friggin’ _end_ game?! Why would you—”

“Is this making you feel better, Phil?” Cassidy asked, cutting him off. “Better knowing you’re just wasting time, and furthermore, wasting what’s left of your wife’s life?”

“ ** _Cassidy_** ,” June groaned. “ _Please_ give this up. There’s nothing that can come of this now. And… And Phil, she isn’t worth it! You don’t need to do this!!”

Phil ignored June, or perhaps didn’t even hear her, his mind clouded, full of venom and unstoppable bitterness. He couldn’t stop himself from the train of thought he had stumbled upon; rather, the train itself had gone full-speed off the rails and into its impending doom. At this point, anything else Phil was thinking or saying was all superfluous, unnecessary except for the fact that it made him feel better to at last air out what he once thought were petty grievances. It was made worse still because his seemingly unfounded distrust of Cassidy was coming to a head, and he could finally say _I told you so_ , even if he wasn’t quite sure who he was saying that to, or what the implications of it were. All he knew was that a newfound self-righteousness was settling in, and he was going to ride it out for as long as he could.

He continued his tirade, “We don’t have anything between us, Cassidy! And you just — you just _killed_ her! How could you do that?! You straight up murdered her, Cassidy! When you knew that she would have _actually_ been dead, in a place that didn’t make sense for _any_ of us! And if — if _maybe_ , you had shown some remorse about any of it, you could’ve — you could’ve fixed this!”

Cassidy rolled her eyes. She backed up carefully and plopped back down on the couch. She was impatient now, and the unbridled part of her was ready to tear into everyone now, if only if it would stop the incessant whining. She wondered vaguely if this was how Joel felt all of the time, and why even now he was still holed up down in the lab, completing his next project. And just what _was_ the next project, she wondered, though of course she was wondering with the same detachment as she was before.

“I always knew I couldn’t trust you,” Phil said. He was continuing on, with or without Cassidy’s commentary. “Everyone called me an asshole. They all told me to just _give you a chance._ And _God._ To think that I almost did. If we had been in the simulation a little longer, my resistance to you — the way that I utterly _abhorred_ you — all of that could have peeled away. And for _what?_ I probably would have died by your hand.”

“You still can,” Cassidy said darkly, narrowing her eyes.

“Please. Just give it up. You’re alone in this,” Phil said, confidence sashaying its way into his tone and stance as he got closer to her again, since he now had the added height over her as she sat planted on the couch.

“June helped me, are you forgetting that already?” Cassidy said. She smiled, drumming her fingers impatiently on the coffee table, knowing how insufferable she was being.

June smacked her forehead. She looked helplessly toward the landing for the basement, hoping that he would spontaneously appear there, or perhaps willing herself to go over there and drag him out herself. As things were unfurling, she couldn’t be certain that he couldn’t make things any worse than they were. With that sliver of hope, she started shuffling over there, figuring that she would as usual go unnoticed in the conversation.

“And just where do you think you’re going?!” Phil barked, gesticulating wildly. “To drag Joel into this? What does he _know_ about this?! Am I _really_ the only one that’s not crazy in here?!”

He said all this without the slightest hint of irony, though he was indignant in that he knew he was acting about as rationally as one could expect to act if his or her spouse were in imminent danger. His mind was reeling again, or maybe it hadn’t _stopped_ reeling ever since Rya had been awakened, or at least since the disaster of a dinner they had. What did he know about Joel, what did he know about anyone? Was this entire thing just another horrible arc, written and directed by Joel?

“Well, I was gonna see if maybe Joel can snap some sense into you,” June snapped back, her heart pounding in her chest, “But I don’t know, Phil! You’re losing your mind! None of this is helpful and none of this is gonna bring Elly back!”

“As if you care about that,” Cassidy huffed. She looked back down at the note that was sit sitting neatly on the coffee table, where June had placed it. She snatched it up and held it out to Phil, who in spite of himself was staring at it in curiosity. “Yeah, read this and weep, buddy. June tried to stage an Elly suicide just as she tried to stage Rya’s.”

“I did _no_ such thing,” June hissed, marching back over to the couch. “And Andrew put me up to it! Even Phil knows that! You were the one sitting here with your fake tears like some sort of sociopath, just waiting for one of us to get home!”

She reached out to grab the note away from Cassidy, but Phil tore it away from her.

“Well, I still have _yet_ to see Andrew,” Phil said. He skimmed the note, but he wasn’t actually interested in the content. He continued, “I mean, you _said_ Andrew put you up to it, but you _also_ said it was your idea, _June._ A-and what’s worse is, how am I supposed to know it wasn’t even really you that stabbed Rya?! I mean, what if you just threatened her and told her to frame Andrew, because he sure as hell isn’t here to defend himself!”

“Okay, you’re defending Andrew, now I _know_ you’re losing it,” June said. “You idiot, I was with you guys the whole time! The only time I left the house was to try and find Rya, which need I remind you, you didn’t even _know_ she had left the house until she had come back bleeding everywhere! So you’re not entirely blameless here either. But that’s not even the point. You’re letting Cassidy misdirect you, even when she’s the one who told you she would be dead if you tried calling the cops!”

Phil inhaled sharply. June’s words snapped him back to reality, or at least to a more level-headed mindset than the one he was at before. He stared at the note more, but couldn’t comprehend any of the words. It didn’t matter anyway, his wife didn’t write it; he didn’t even know where she was, or if she was in great amount of pain like Rya had been. He dropped the note to the floor, then looked back up to June and Cassidy, who were both staring at him from across the coffee table.

“I just… I just don’t understand,” Phil said weakly. His head was beginning to throb; though adrenaline was still coursing through him, his lack of sleep and proper appetite were hitting him like a ton of bricks. He murmured, again, as though in a trance, “I just want to understand.”

Cassidy rose to her feet and reached out to Phil again, guiding him down to the couch beside her. He obliged, though he stared blankly ahead, something inside of him getting dangerously close to a breaking point. June stood standing, intensely alert should Cassidy try anything strange.

“She had to die, you know,” Cassidy said softly, extending a hand out and gently running it through Phil’s disheveled hair. He shuddered at her touch, but didn’t respond. “And… Maybe this whole Elly thing isn’t quite ideal, here, but you have to at least appreciate my honesty here.”

“What the hell was honest about any of this?” June snapped. “And you were trying to lie about her suicide. So you obviously wanted us to think that she was dead, whether or not you were planning on that. Which you’ve been weird and vague about.”

“I… I just want to know that — that she’s safe,” Phil mumbled. He rubbed at his eyes, a bit dazed still. He was starting to hear an impossibly loud ringing in his ears.

“She will be. You can make this all go away. Very easily.”

“I can’t be with you, Cass, if that’s what you’re asking,” Phil said flatly. “I think you and I both know that.”

“You seem so sure of that,” Cassidy said. “If you think that I’m going to go to all this trouble just for you to reject me again, then I’m not so sure you and I see eye to eye, here.”

“Did we _ever_?” Phil said, aghast. At last he grabbed ahold of the hand that was still touching his hair, invading his space, and held it away, so that Cassidy might return her hand to herself. “I never… Like I said, I was never close to you. A-and… It doesn’t matter how much ‘work’ you think you’re putting in. You’re not caring about what I want.”

Cassidy scoffed. “And you don’t think that’s the kinda crap you pulled with Elly? You pursued her for _years_ , even when she told you she wasn’t interested. She finally got sick of your shit and decided to settle, because she didn’t have Andrew to fall back on anymore. And because Joel didn’t want to mess around with her either. Because she’s _garbage_.”

Phil straightened suddenly, as though struck, and he turned to glare at her. The fire was burning inside of him again, though what it was made of, he wasn’t quite sure. It at least appeared to be a healthy mix of indignation and unfounded defensiveness, and certainly it didn’t feel like the first time he’s had to defend his feelings for Elly.

“Are you serious, Cass?” Phil said. “I… You’re seriously comparing me pursuing Elly to you pursuing me? I mean, did you know that I didn’t even _know_ that you had these feelings for me until Rya spelled it out for me?!”

“Well, you would have known sooner had Bonus Stage continued, I’m sure,” Cassidy said. She shrugged. “That’s your own fault, though, for being so damn clueless.”

“It’s still not the _same_ ,” Phil insisted, “and if you think it’s even _remotely_ comparable, you’re… You’re nuts. I don’t know, that’s — maybe those aren’t the best words to use, but really, I don’t know what other words I can use when I’m literally looking into the eyes of a murderer right now! I mean, what else is there to say? You’re… You’re the one that needs to be admitted right now, _not_ Rya!”

“She didn’t love you. She told you she didn’t love you. She _hated_ you,” Cassidy said, nearly spitting the words. “You loathed _me_. Told me you weren’t interested, believed I was a pawn in one of Joel’s underhanded scheme. How is it _different_?”

“Again, I didn’t _kill_ someone for her,” Phil said, adamant. “I feel like that’s the key thing here that you’re carelessly glossing over.”

“But you _could_ have.”

“But I _didn’t._ I didn’t do it. Even in the simulation. In a place where I could have made a show of killing someone for her, I didn’t,” Phil said.

“You almost kicked the shit out of Andrew for her,” Cassidy said. “Still violent.”

“You’re being needlessly pedantic. And I still _didn’t._ I didn’t even _hurt_ Andrew.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cassidy said. She tossed her hair flippantly. “You’re the one splitting hairs. That’s all beside the point anyway. The point is, she didn’t love you, and she doesn’t love you now. I don’t care what you think. I can tell. I could see it in her eyes, even on your precious wedding day, she was _settling_. You’ll always be second best in her eyes. Second best to Joel. She doesn’t, couldn’t, and would never love you the same way that I do. That I… Always have.”

Though she were speaking words that required a great amount of vulnerability, she didn’t seem to be at all affected by them. If anything, they sounded more rehearsed, or at least recited a thousand times before a mirror as one works him or herself up to give a particularly moving speech — but there’s no more power in it, having been practiced to death.

Phil balked at the words just the same. He said, “You don’t even _know_ me, Cass. Give me a break. I mean, a-and just where the hell have you _been_ this whole time, Cassidy?! Where do you get off saying all of that? Elly and I have been married for _years,_ Cass, and you didn’t even _go!_ You didn’t _go_ to the wedding, so how would you _know_?!”

Phil ceased his ranting at the last part, some strange memory coming back to haunt him again, just as it had before during his conversation with Elly. He hesitated, mistrusting his own version of that conversation that had probably been warped to hell since all that time had passed, and all the previous steam that he had been riding on entirely dissipated.

“I… Wait a second…” He squinted, scrutinizing Cassidy hard.

Cassidy kept smiling back at him, watching the wheels turn. She looked up at June, who looked horrified, but was still keeping her mouth shut.

“Wh… _Were_ you there, Cassidy?” Phil asked quietly.

Cassidy chuckled lightly. “Does that really matter right now? Will it make you feel better about anything, knowing the answer to that?”

“I don’t know. It… Might.” Phil looked up to June, who only shrugged at him.

“What do _you_ think?” Cassidy pressed.

“Well, I… I thought you were, maybe… O-or, maybe it was Elly that thought you were. But I don’t know. Neither of us could figure it out, a-and you weren’t in any of the pictures, which you obviously should have been if… If you had come,” Phil said. “So… Um. No…?”

Cassidy tilted her head. She thought about the importance of the answer, wondered what it was Phil was _looking_ for in that answer. Would it somehow make everything click into place for him, when everything else was just crumbling to pieces around him? It amused her to think that he couldn’t trust his own memory, even though the wedding had happened a good time after the end of Bonus Stage. One would think that he would have learned to trust in himself more, to trust in his judgment.

“No,” she lied.

“I see,” Phil said. The answer did nothing for him. The truth would have done the same.

Nothing would have made sense either way, but still Phil tortured himself wondering what it all meant anyway, what he could have done to prevent this, what he did to _deserve_ this, what _Elly_ did to deserve all this. _Elly..._

Phil looked down to the floor, where he had dropped the note. He noticed that his legs were beginning to quake again, just at the vague notion that Elly might have taken her own life or done something to hurt herself. He slid over to the end of the couch and reached down to pick it up. As his eyes did a quick sweep of the floor, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, sticking out from underneath the couch.

Curious, he stuck his hand underneath. He gasped as he extracted one half of Elly’s broken frames.

Phil dropped it immediately and broke into a fit of hysterical sobs.

June bent to pick it up, and her eyes widened with horror as they focused on the tiniest spec of blood on the lens. She lowered the evidence of violence and scowled at Cassidy.

“What the _fuck_ did you do with her, Cass,” June said. “You need to give this up. It’s. Over. Phil doesn’t want to be with you. Rya is still alive. Your threats mean nothing if Elly is already dead. Please, _please_ , if you really do love him, you’d stop torturing him and give this up.”

“I’m sure you’d love to try saying that again with bullets in your face,” Cassidy said. She squinted, rethinking her threat. “Mmm. I dunno, I guess we’ll go with that. Anyway, the point is, Andrew is still here, and he has a friggin’ gun, so I’d suggest you listen to him.”

June looked up, expecting Andrew to slink out of a corner, wielding the same gun he had used to threaten her the previous afternoon. She looked all around. But nothing happened. Phil didn’t look up; he was still crying desperately into his hands, hopelessly inconsolable.

“Wh… So is he here?” June said.

Cassidy rose to her feet. She balled her hands into fists. “Th… Well, he’s _supposed_ t — we had a plan — he’s _supposed_ be!! Jesus Christ.” She raised her voice, as though she were trying to find the champion at Hide and Seek. “ ** _Andrew_**?!”

Cassidy looked down at her pocket, which had started buzzing furiously. She ripped her phone out of her pocket, slid to accept the call.

“Where the _fuck_ are you,” she snarled.

“I have to bail. We’re fucked,” Andrew said. “Goodbye.”

The door burst open.

An extremely disheveled Elly, covered in a multitude of bruises and bloodstains, stepped over the threshold, panting heavily. She threw the door shut behind her, the door rattled in its hinges.


	12. Chapter Eleven

The last thing Elly immediately remembered — or was even really aware of — was that she had drank way more than she had intended, and how her head was currently throbbing on account of it. What was worse was that she couldn’t see anything either, at least not at first. And then, as one slowly pulls oneself out of the messy fog of a sleep induced by too much alcohol (or, in her case, chloroform), more and more pieces started to come together.

She tried to move and found that her arms were immobilized, bound together at the wrists by some uncomfortable material, perhaps duct tape. Even without touching her face, though, she knew that her glasses were gone, or at least not anywhere near her face where she might utilize them to see more than a mess of blurry shapes around her.

The rest of her observations, limited as they were, struck her fairly swiftly. By the tiny amount of space around her, she deduced that she was now lying sideways in a car, and she perceived that the car was moving at a ridiculously uncomfortable speed, given the bumpy turbulence she was feeling. She started to wriggle around, testing her own mobility as she weighed her dim options. Of course one of the first things she thought of was to roll onto her back and kick the hood frantically, in case someone would hear; however, the last thing she wanted to do was draw the attention of the driver, alerting this person that she had come to, as she couldn’t assume that their intentions weren’t sinister.

Instead, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness in the car, she rolled over and quickly scanned for a release button, her only true option in this situation. Upon finding it on the right side, she wiggled forward, bending and angling her body in unnatural, painful ways so that she could reach it with her limited scope of mobility. For a second, she pondered if she should wait until the car had come to a stop somewhere — though she just as quickly decided against it, figuring it was better to assume that time was not on her side. She inched and shimmied forward as much as she could, finally getting her body almost completely flush against the trunk door. At last, she was able to reach and yank the release, allowing the trunk to pop open — just as it guaranteed in situations such as these.

However, just as Elly was preparing herself to roll back so she could gain some momentum to roll out, the driver slammed on the brakes, causing her to topple more so than roll out of the car. Though she was panicked, she let herself go limp so that she fell not unlike a crash dummy and did not sustain as much injury as she could have rolling out of a car that had gone from over forty to zero miles per hour in a matter of seconds.

Tumbling onto the road, she struggled to right herself in any way she could, though bits and pieces of asphalt were lodging themselves painfully into every exposed part of her body. When she could at last control her movements and slowed to a stop, she rolled onto her back, then rolled onto her knees. She scrutinized her wrists, still bound together by the duct tape. She inhaled deeply, raising her wrists above her head, keeping her elbows together. Then, with one swift movement, she brought her wrists down hard against her abdomen, pulling her elbows apart. The tape tore apart, and she could at last push herself up to her shaking feet.

Whoever had tied her wrists together clearly didn’t try very hard, she thought to herself.

She looked up to the car that had taken her, which was now spinning frantically around, tires squealing on the road.

She bolted.

Her eyes burned in the brightness of the morning. She cursed herself yet again for her blindness, darting wildly across the street to reach a sidewalk, the world still a mess of blurry shadows around her. How was she supposed to get home like this, get help like this? She couldn’t even tell where she was, what she was even doing here. But her adrenaline pushed her to keep moving, even as she heard the car come to a stop behind her — and then a slammed door, and then even a warning shot ringing through the air.

She spun around and saw a figure rapidly approaching her, his swift footsteps seeming to barely fall on the pavement. She turned and kept running in a zigzag fashion, even though she had no idea where she was, even though this person clearly had a gun at his disposal.

As she ran, she tried to glean what information she could from the world around her. From the general layout, she gathered that she was in the middle of a neighborhood, another generic sleepy New Jersey suburb that held no signs of intelligent life, though it was not one she could immediately recognize from the vague shapes alone — although they all looked the same to her anyway. By the colors in the sky she deduced it was still early enough in the morning that the people around had not yet begun their day. Though she wanted to call out more than anything, there were no other cars on the road, no other people to whom she could scream out for assistance.

Then Andrew fell upon her. He wrenched two lanky arms around her shoulders, trying to pull her backward, but she ducked before he could get a solid grip on her. He stumbled, cursing the entire time, and she rolled onto the ground and out of his grasp. She shot to her feet, but Andrew was already coming upon her again.

“You’re being awful ballsy even though I have a gun, sweetheart,” he grunted, grabbing at both of her shoulders.

“So shoot me then,” Elly said. She wasn’t sure why she said it; in fact, she had only just realized it was even Andrew she was talking to right as he had grabbed her and she could see him more clearly.

“Well, I was _gonna_ —”

Andrew had his hands tightly squeezing Elly’s shoulders, but her legs were free. She stomped on his foot and kneed him in the groin, and, predictably, he toppled over. She then kneed him in the head — directly in his ear, rather — effectively disarming him for the time being. Before he had a chance to pull the gun from the inside of his jacket hoodie, Elly reached in and extracted it herself with a strange familiarity.

He reached out to grab her wrists again, but she kicked him straight in the stomach. He groaned in agony, having fallen on his own knife in the same area not too long before. At this point, however, he wasn’t sure if his pride was hurting more than anything else.

“What th— How… Did you know it was in there?!” Andrew said weakly, holding his sides.

He rolled to try to get to his feet, but Elly placed a foot on him, holding him in place, and swiveled the gun to aim it at his forehead.

“Oh _come on!_ ” he cried. “This is bullshit. You’re not gonna shoot me. I’m… I’m going to kill you.”

“You’re useless except for cartoon violence and empty threats, huh?” she said, bending over and watching him as he writhed about pathetically on the ground. “Man, what a sight for sore eyes! Really, though. My eyes hurt from straining so hard.”

“You’re the worst,” Andrew spat. “Y- y… You can’t go back… It’s — you’re too late, anyway.”

Elly shook her head. If she hadn’t been holding a gun, she probably would have folded her arms or placed her hands on her hips in response to him. She said, “Yeah, I’ll see about that. Where are my glasses, you dickhead? They’re kind of important.”

“I… I don’t know anything about that.”

Elly had no reason to disbelieve him at this moment. Maybe at any other time, but in his current position, she wasn’t sure what he had to lose. As she mulled it over, she started to feel her injuries more, and not just the ones she sustained from rolling out of a car; rather, she was beginning to remember the violence Cassidy had inflicted on her shortly before she blacked out, particularly that her glasses had broken on the coffee table. With that, she cursed herself yet again for letting her guard down around this woman she barely knew. And now here she was with Andrew, who had her in the back of his car for reasons unknown, in some unrecognizable neighborhood.

“Nevermind that,” Elly said. She sighed, and as she did so she felt a weakness in her limbs, but she refused to lower the gun lest Andrew try to overpower her again. Not only that, but in holding the gun at Andrew’s head — something that until this moment, she hadn’t ever done, hadn’t even been sure she was entirely capable of it — she felt strangely in control of this weird situation thrust upon her. This was an entirely new feeling. She continued, “Anyway, why the hell was I in the back of your car? What the hell is going on?”

“It’s not worth it to explain at this point,” Andrew choked. “ _God_. I knew Cassidy was taking too long. She took way too long… For everything.”

“I think I’m the one who can decide whether or not things are _worth explaining_. So you were gonna kill me? I mean, is that it?” Elly said. “Is that the whole… Thing?! Why are you even here?!”

“You’re just wasting time,” he said. “And what do you want me to even say? Yeah, I was _supposed_ to dispose of you. I was — I was just gonna blow you away and dump your body in some shallow grave. Does that make you _happy_ knowing that?”

Elly’s stomach churned. She trembled slightly, but she kept a stiff upper lip; after all, she wasn’t about to show her would-be murderer any signs of weakness. Although, as she considered how easy it had been to overtake him, she couldn’t be so sure. She tried to stay focused, though it was becoming harder and harder with the millions of thoughts going through her head about the last time she had seen Andrew, how he had gotten here, his involvement with Cassidy, what anything had to do with anything. There was simply too much. And maybe Andrew was right, it was all just wasting time, time and energy better expended toward something else.

“I mean, really, Elly. What else were you expecting? After everything that’s happened. Between us.”

“Oh, my God, you would bring that up, now,” Elly moaned. “Shut up. Fine then, no closure for you. I certainly wasn’t looking for anything. Tell me, where the hell are we, then? How do I get home from here?”

“Ah, I forget just how blind you are,” he said smugly. Then he realized just how much more incompetent that made him in this situation. He could already hear the insults Cassidy would berate him with. He sighed deeply. “Well, anyway. You’re not far. To the left of you is a dead end. Follow the sidewalk to the other end and you’ll probably recognize where you are.”

Elly nodded. “Good. Now get the fuck out of here. Don’t ever come back. If I see you again, I’m calling the cops. After all, you’ve already violated the restraining order. Don’t think you should add attempted kidnapping to that, and the fact that you were plotting murder.”

She moved away so that Andrew could slowly rise to his feet, but he kept looking at her curiously, suspiciously.

Elly rolled her eyes at his hesitance. “I’m being merciful, here. Y’know, the better person? Just go, asshole. _Go!_ ”

He moved and got to his feet quickly, held his hands up, continuing to scrutinize Elly, this woman he had been involved with for so long, so many years ago. She had a fierceness in her eyes, an undeniable fire that he wasn’t quite sure that he had ever seen before, at least not directed at him in such a fashion. When they were together, she wasn’t even really for him in the first place, and he knew that; after all, she was always chasing after the unattainable, whether she was just vying for attention from Joel or even just more screen time on Bonus Stage. Either way, he had never seen her this determined.

After a beat, he at last garnered the courage to turn his back to her, though he knew she would never stoop to his level and kill him with his defenses down. Though maybe he had never had it in him to kill her in the first place, much less Rya. He had lost himself in the scheme a long time ago, had lost his own story.

He looked over his shoulder. Elly was still watching him intently, the gun in her hands, still trained on him. He watched her as he dug his hand into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone.

He flipped it open and called Cassidy, staying close enough to Elly so she could hear every word, though it was a short conversation. When he hung up, he threw the phone on the ground, crushed it under his foot.

As she watched Andrew silently get into his car and drove away, Elly knew it was for the last time. He, too, knew that he would never see any one of them again.

* * *

Phil looked up from his hands and couldn’t believe his eyes. Trembling, he stood to greet the woman he had been sobbing hysterically over the past few minutes, believing her to be injured or possibly dead. However, Elly quickly shook her head and pointed at Cassidy, who stood staring at the woman she had rendered unconsciousness hours before.

“You,” Elly panted, taking slow, labored breaths.

Cassidy folded her arms, refusing to feel intimidated. “I’m surprised you can be so sure,” she teased. “After all, you can’t really see much from over there, can you?”

“Well if I didn’t, then your annoying voice just gave you away,” Elly said. She reached into her back pocket, where she had stored the gun she had taken from Andrew’s possession. With a shaking hand, she brandished it and pointed it directly at Cassidy.

“Really?” Cassidy said. She held her hands up defensively, though Elly didn’t incite any sort of fear in her. She glanced at June, who had been staring wide-eyed at Elly, but when she felt Cassidy’s gaze, she stared right back at her.

“What am I missing here?” Elly said. Though it pained her, physically and otherwise, to continue holding up the gun, she knew it was all she had in this fight. Just as it had with Andrew, it gave her a strange confidence that she normally wouldn’t have at her disposal.

Everyone stared blankly at her, not sure what to say.

“Well? Is anyone going to say _anything?_ ” Elly pressed. “What the fuck is going on here?!”

“Mm, put down the gun, Elly,” Cassidy said calmly. “There’s no need—”

“And why should I listen to you?! You — you were gonna have me _killed!_ And why?!” Elly pleaded. She looked to Phil, who was still crying silently.

“P-Please. Put down the gun, Elly,” Phil croaked.

Elly obliged, raising an eyebrow at him while Cassidy sheepishly lowered her hands. Everybody looked at each other as they stood around the living room awkwardly, unsure of what was transpiring, what to even do from here. It was a peculiar, unspoken impasse that hadn’t been fully formed, with none of the realizations that everyone had to come to fully articulated either.

June cleared her throat, and Elly jumped as though she hadn’t known that she was even there. Quietly, June said, “I guess this whole thing got out of hand.”

“None of this was supposed to happen. I can’t believe Andrew is so friggin’ useless,” Cassidy said. “He couldn’t even do this one thing. And then another thing.”

“So it’s true,” Elly murmured. “I mean, I sorta figured you were up to something around the time you bashed my head on the coffee table. Which, by the way, thanks a _lot_. Glasses are expensive, y’know, and I don’t have any backup pairs. Do you know how _annoying_ it is to wear contacts?! I mean, jeez.”

Cassidy scowled at her. June smacked her forehead.

“Anyway, that’s all beside the point,” Elly continued. “Oh, and, for the record — Andrew did blame you for your poor planning.”

“No… None of that matters,” Phil said softly.

Elly looked at her husband expectantly as he at last walked over to her. He encircled an arm around her waist and pulled her into him, though she stood peering anxiously over at Cassidy, who was now tightly clenching her fists.

“This is my fault, anyway,” Phil whispered, into her hair. “All of this.”

“Wait, what?” Elly said, shoving Phil away, hard. “And just what are you talking about? You knew about all this?”

He jumped away, startled and stammering, as he realized she was still holding the gun in one of her hands.

“Oh, please, don’t give him that much credit,” June said. “In fact, don’t give him any. The poor fool has been clueless this entire time.”

“Hey, now just wait a second—” Phil began, offended and ready to rattle off a list of just how and why, in fact, he had _not_ been clueless this entire time.

“Just _shut up,_ **_all of you!_** ” Cassidy exploded, rushing over and knocking Elly off her feet.

Elly fell onto her back, yelping in pain, and Cassidy leapt on top of her, clawing at her face. Upon hitting the floor, Elly released her grip on the gun, and Cassidy moved to grab it; however, June pounced over like she had been waiting for this exact moment so that she could kick the gun out of anyone’s reach.

Both Phil and June exchanged glances before they both came at either side of Cassidy, grabbing ahold of her and hoisting her off even despite her attempts to cling to Elly as though she were an agitated cat being forcefully plucked from a comfortable position. She struggled hard against them, but they held fast to her.

“We were _doing_ the _right_ thing,” Cassidy sputtered, still thrashing in vain. “This is something that should have happened a _long time ago!_ Rya isn’t supposed to _exist,_ especially not in the real world!! We were _doing_ the _right thing!_ ”

“You wouldn’t know a damn thing about doing the right thing,” June said. “And we all know that this was never about her in the first place! None of this was!”

Elly groaned and rolled over so that she could stand up. She rubbed her back and glared at Cassidy, who at last had ceased her struggling. With a tilt of her head, Elly said, “Yeah, what’s this about it being Phil’s fault and all…?”

Phil glanced at June helplessly. She rolled her eyes and released her vice grip on Cassidy’s arm, so he followed suit.

Cassidy wrenched herself away from the two of them and backed up, inching closer to the front door, though her eyes were trained on the gun that had slid into the dining room. When she looked up, however, and saw that all pairs of eyes were on her, and everybody stood tense and ready to act, she realized the futility of her situation. She had run out of weapons, out of options, out of help. She had no idea where Andrew even was, if he was even likely to even get back in touch with her, but she wanted to strangle him. She blamed him in part for this unraveling of her scheme, blamed him for his competency as a lackey and his unwillingness to carry out his parts of the plan in an effective manner — but more than anything, she blamed June.

“ _June_ ,” Cassidy said, narrowing her eyes and placing her hands on her hips.

“What the hell do you want?” June growled. “You’re through here.”

“I just don’t believe you,” Cassidy said. She scoffed. “If anything, in this whole thing… I’m probably the most disappointed in you for your lack of conviction and loyalty.”

“You manipulated me and threatened me, and you had Andrew do the same,” June rebutted.

June refused to let Cassidy drag this out anymore. The last thing she wanted was for the woman to wrench the knife in further and cause more tension between her and the rest of the household. She could tell that Phil and Elly were already on edge about her involvement in everything, and she couldn’t risk Cassidy twisting things even more, knowing that the longer it went on, the harder it would be to undo the damage. And maybe things were already at some irreparable point; after all, she was already fiercely comfortable with the fact that Rya was in the hospital now, hating her probably more than anyone else in the world.

“You wanted Rya gone just as much as I did,” Cassidy said. She grinned that obnoxiously normal smile again, the one that rubbed everyone the wrong way if only because it didn’t properly convey just how smug she was feeling. “Don’t forget that. You wanted to be the center of attention, but nobody actually cared about you. Nobody even really does now. I was the only one that really paid any mind to you during that last arc. C’mon, June. You can still rectify this. I mean, Rya’s in the hospital now. You might as well keep her institutionalized. She’s not fit for society.”

“You’re one to talk,” Elly hissed.

June’s lower lip trembled, the weight of years of neglect and trauma bearing down on her all at once again. But still, she refused to crumple underneath them; she couldn’t let this happen, not again.

“You’re wrong,” June said. The words began to spill out of here, suddenly, without warning. She wasn’t sure where exactly they were coming from, but she was proud of herself in spite of it all, and prouder still that the group stood speechless, rapt, as she continued, “And I’m not even gonna bother to refute that emotionally manipulative bullshit you’re laying on thick, there. The same garbage you’ve been subjecting me to this whole time. It’s just not… It’s not true, Cassidy!

“And… as for the rest of that, there’s no _rectifying_! I mean, yeah, Rya doesn’t quite know how to deal with things right now. So yeah, Rya _is_ in a program, whatever. If anything, she needs the damn counseling for almost being _murdered_ again. And hey, it’s not perfect, but she needs some time away from everything while we take care of all of this. But that — I mean all of that… That doesn’t matter, and you _know_ that. She already exists. Whether or not she should, I mean, it just doesn’t matter anymore. The fact is she _does_ , and she has a right to.

“That was never the point. That was never your real goal. The fact of the matter is that this was never gonna work out. Phil was _never_ going to love you. He never did.”

Elly snapped out of her thoughtful repose at that last comment, sputtering helplessly at no one in particular, “W-wait, what the hell? Are you serious?!”

Phil opened his mouth to speak, but he thought better of it. Though he still felt greatly responsible for things, he knew that this moment was not really about him.

A dark cloud passed over Cassidy’s eyes. She stood trembling in the doorway, staring daggers into June, who adamantly refused to break eye contact for even a second. Cassidy only wished that looks could actually kill. Or at least disable.

“So, like everything else, this is going to the go the way of Bonus Stage, I suppose,” Cassidy said.

“No. Nothing is quite like that,” Phil said, an edge of irritation to his voice.

Everyone jumped as Cassidy reached behind her and turned the doorknob. She pulled open the door behind with a shrill creaking. Nobody had been prepared for her to go, but then nobody had quite been prepared for her to arrive either. They continued to stare at her strangely as she turned around.

Elly in particular didn’t feel the same finality she had when Andrew had walked away; rather, she felt like they were reaching the end of a season — but the jury was out on whether or not this would prove to be a series finale.

Cassidy looked over her shoulder one last time as she stepped over the threshold. “Thanks for dinner,” she said.

She walked briskly away, hands in her pockets, leaving the door open so that the group could watch her get into her car and pull out of their driveway.

The sun was coming up in full force now, illustrating in a multitude of bright colors that the day was coming whether or not the group wanted it to, that the passage of time cared not whether anyone had slept or had a moment of peace.

“Well that was anti-climatic,” Phil deadpanned. He stepped forward and shut the door.

“That’s… All? She’s just going to leave?” Elly said. “I didn’t even get to…”

“That’s it, I’m calling the damn cops,” Phil huffed. “I swear if I find out she stole anything, I’m going to lose it.”

“Please, Phil, you’ve already lost it. But… Uh. A great idea, nonetheless,” June sighed.

“I… I don’t think they’ll believe us,” Elly said, uncertain. She walked over and peered out the window, as though Cassidy might change her mind and come back. “I mean… I’m probably gonna file a report about Andrew though. You know that asshole had me in the back of his trunk? He was gonna just dump my body somewhere. Can you believe that?”

She spoke in a casual, detached manner, but even she knew that the full implications of what had happened to her and the sheer traumatic nature of it all had not quite hit her yet.

“He **_what?!_** ” Phil exclaimed, a newfound murderous glint in his eyes. “I’ll—”

“Simmer down, sparky,” June said drily. “You’re not killing anyone. I wouldn’t worry about him coming back. I think Cassidy will kill him if anything. And maybe _that’ll_ be the true end of it. But in any case, we _should_ file a report at least so that if either of them come back, we’ll be covered — I mean, not that I think that _either_ of them would be that stupidly brash.”

“For what it’s worth, June, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you earlier,” Phil said sheepishly.

June smiled for the first time in a long while. “It’s okay, Phil. I would have done the same thing in your position. I’m not offended by it. We’ve all had a long night.”

“So, wait, wait, what, Cassidy did all this because she wanted to get to Phil?” Elly asked. She seemed to be processing as she spoke, in a fragmented manner just as her memories had come back to her this morning in the trunk of Andrew’s car. “I feel like a missed a crucial component of this. I mean what the hell! I… I mean… She did grill me last night about my relationship with Phil. But… Even with Rya and everything, that’s twice now… Wait, did she try to kill Rya _too_ because of Phil? I’m so lost. A few years ago Phil couldn’t get a girl to look at him, and now that he’s married people are going to actually come back from the dead and otherwise to try and get him? What? I mean, are _you_ gonna come out of left field now, June, and tell me you’ve been harboring feelings for him too? Joel, even?”

Phil shot her an annoyed look. “What is all _that_ supposed to mean?!”

“You’re a bit wrong on all accounts,” June said. She rolled her eyes. “I mean, you’re right to a certain extent, and I won’t speak for Joel, but this has been in the works for quite some time, as you can imagine. I’ll tell you guys all that I know. We’ve all been kind of orbiting our own planets for a while now.”

“Well… Wait, where _is_ Joel?” Phil said, looking around frantically as though he had just realized that Joel hadn’t been there this entire time. “I haven’t heard from him since he slapped me at the hospital and basically groped me.”

Elly balked at this new information.

The three of them continued to talk at length about the events of the previous night, and how they had come together in the first place, but when Joel appeared at the top of the landing to the basement, everything went dead silent. June’s heart leapt out of her chest, not because she was glad to see him and know that he truly was unscathed in this whole situation, but because she was terrified of what he had been doing this entire time.

He himself stood quiet for a moment, fists clenched, his entire body quaking slightly. He had an unquestionably dead look about his eyes, as they were sullen and darkened. Though the others had also not slept the previous night, Joel suddenly looked as though he had not slept in years, having danced the line between life and death for an unreasonable amount of time.

“J… Joel,” Phil whispered, reaching a hand out. He was suddenly at a complete loss for words, all decent forms of exposition torn from him violently over the course of the last few days. “Cassidy was the… She tried to kill…”

“I could’ve told you that,” Joel said, cutting him off. He was staring at the floor. Whether or not he was clueless to all that transpired, it didn’t matter; he clearly didn’t have the patience for Phil’s floundering.

Phil raised an eyebrow. “W… What the hell are you talking about, Joel?”

Joel laughed bitterly, running a shaking hand through his hair. “Spare me. I had been suspicious of her since before we even left the simulation. I invited her over for dinner just to confirm my suspicions.”

Everyone was too stunned, too tired, too _done_ to reply.

“Of course, it was all so obvious to me I figured _someone_ would’ve been able to pick up on it. But I guess I was also counting on you guys to keep it together and not let it _escalate_ ,” Joel said, hissing the last word.

“I’m… Jeez. So you invited someone over, suspicious that she was dangerous, and you just let us all go at it like that? Like one of your other dumb science experiments? Y’know, like… Like that _show_?” Phil asked dryly. He knew at this moment he should be infuriated, especially knowing that Elly and Rya had been in horrible danger — that they both could be dead in ditches right now had things not happened the way they did — but he just didn’t have it in him anymore. It was all too much, too fast, and the only thing he could really be sure he was feeling was anxiety mounting in him at the prospect that there was still more yet to come.

Joel was silent.

June only became aware that she was chewing furiously on her lower lip when she tasted blood.

“So where is she?” June asked anxiously.

“Who…? Rya?” Phil said. “She’s at the—”

June shook her head, waved Phil off, kept staring at Joel who was challenging her with an equally piercing gaze. She didn’t want to waste any more time on explanation, on playing catch-up with her other roommates that she knew had been ignorant to what Joel had been doing.

At last, Joel broke eye contact and lowered his head. In that moment he looked so devoid of energy that he might at any provocation keel over onto the floor. No one quite knew what to make of his vulnerability, especially when all this time he had been so absent, so guarded.

“It didn’t work,” Joel said finally.

“What didn’t… No, no… It did work though,” Phil said, not understanding. It was as though that was his sole purpose in life, to consistently miss the mark and frustrate those around him who were just a couple steps ahead of him every single time. “Rya’s alive, she’s okay, she can finally thrive now and live a life she never knew she was capable of having. It’s… It’s incredible, Joel. You… should be proud of it.”

Phil didn’t even believe he had it in him to say such a thing sincerely, but it didn’t matter. Joel marched over and curled his fingers tightly around Phil’s collar, yanked his frightened roommate mere inches away from his own face.

“ _No_ , Phil, _you don’t get it_ ,” he hissed, “It _didn’t_ work. _She’s_ **_dead_**. **_Kate_ ** is _dead_.”

With that, Joel released his grip on Phil. He sunk to his knees and held his face in his hands. His whole body shuddered, and the rest of the group thought he might be choking back a sob, but instead all that erupted from him were pained groans, as though he was the one that was dying all along.

Elly rushed to Phil’s side, rubbed his shoulders as he reeled for a moment. Meanwhile, June’s own eyes welled up with tears, having known, knowing she could do nothing to stop it. She turned away.

“I…  I don’t understand,” Phil murmured slowly, terrified for and of Joel at the same time. “Where is this… coming from…? I mean, Kate…? She’s been dead for so long, Joel…”

Joel lifted his head from his hands. He saw the wheels turning in Phil’s head, wheels that had certainly been overworked to death over the past few days, but he waited to see if Phil could piece anything together on his own.

“I’m… Joel, were you trying to—” Phil began. He cut himself off and just stood there, his mouth agape. He almost didn’t want to say the words, as though saying them in the first place were what made things true or not.

“ _Yes_ , you Irish idiot,” Joel snarled. “I was trying to bring Kate back to life. Her body didn’t take to the procedure like Rya’s did. I don’t know how. I don’t know why. But I’ve been working on this for days now, almost nonstop. I’ve tried everything. It didn’t. Work.”

Phil stuttered, “But I don’t… I don’t understand, how is that even _remotely_ — I mean, she died a _long_ time ago, how is there _any_ way that her body would’ve—”

“Rya wasn’t the first test,” Joel interrupted, though purposefully not answering his questions in order. “And it wasn’t what I originally intended, but she was a test. When I created the simulation, when I made… Bonus Stage… I had many plans and ideas, as I’m sure you can imagine. But ultimately, bringing my sister back from her untimely death — that was end goal. That was what I was working toward first and foremost, above everything else. And it _didn’t work._ ”

Joel shot to his feet, and before anyone could protest, he was rushing back down into the basement, into his laboratory.

“ _Joel!_ ” Phil shouted.

He hesitated for a moment, turned to look at everyone. Elly and June nodded at him, urging him forward, and with that he took off quickly after his distraught roommate. As he descended the stairs, he couldn’t help but be reminded of but a few days earlier when he had been pulled from sleep to find without any sort of preparation that Joel had revived Rya; however, the very memory sent chills up his spine when he realized that he could be coming upon an even worse sight, one that he wasn’t sure he would ever be prepared for. With this in mind, Phil instinctively slowed his paces, and even lifted a hand to shield his eyes like he were about to pass the threshold of his dark home into the impossible brightness of day.

When he stepped into Joel’s lab, Phil was taken aback by the large amount of blood pooling on the floors that he had only ever remembered being stark white. There was even some splattered on both sides of the wall, which would normally indicate some sort of unwieldy struggle for life against some inconceivable foe; however, it didn’t make sense in this context. Joel was standing with his back to Phil, hunched over one of his tables. Though the sight and smell of the blood horrified and unsettled Phil, he felt a twinge of relief that there was no body to be found anywhere; whatever had happened here, Joel had taken meticulous care to store it out of sight for some reason.

“Joel.”

Joel whipped around, revealing that he was holding a handgun. When he locked eyes with Phil, he lifted it to his head.

Phil sprung forward, reaching for and snatching both of Joel’s hands in his own, but Joel jerked away. They fumbled wordlessly for a second, Phil effectively pinning Joel against the table and his hands gripping both of Joel’s wrists tightly. Joel groaned as he strained against Phil, annoyed by his bravado. Phil glared at Joel, shaking as he desperately tried to keep a hold on both of Joel’s arms in the air as Joel attempted to bend himself painfully back to gain leverage. It was yet another impossible, unspoken impasse, and neither of them wanted to give it up, for their own reasons.

Joel’s finger was still on the trigger. He fired into the ceiling.

Reflexively, Phil sprung away, but in that same second he realized that no one had been harmed and he just as quickly threw a punch as hard as he could from underneath Joel’s jaw.

Joel dropped the gun onto the table and bent over, sputtering expletives as he went down to his knees. Phil grabbed ahold of his shoulders and wrenched him up to his feet again and delivered another unforgiving slap across his face.

“Get _ahold_ of yourself, Joel!” Phil shouted, exasperated. He panted for a moment to catch his breath. “A-and… Okay, where the hell is everyone getting guns all of a sudden?”

Joel rubbed at his jaw, and then his cheek, but he said nothing. He was reeling at the fact that Phil had the gall to stand up to him in such a way. At any other time, he might have been proud, if not just incredibly irked, as he was now.

“I want you to explain more,” Phil said, through gritted teeth. “But that doesn’t mean that you get to kill yourself after, either. That’s not happening. Not now, not ever.”

Joel chuckled lightly. He reached up and gingerly removed Phil’s hands from his shoulders. He turned and grabbed the gun, examining it in his hands. Phil eyed him carefully.

“I had been thinking about it immediately after she died,” Joel said. He placed the gun back on the table and began pacing the room.

Phil followed him with his eyes, the anxiety just from watching Joel eating him alive. “You mean… About bringing Kate back to life?”

“I kept her body preserved the whole time,” Joel explained. “Nobody ever knew. It just so happened I was already experimenting with that technology anyway, because I had begun work on the simulation.”

“And so that technology you used to keep our bodies in stasis while we lived in the virtual world…” Phil began. He squinted. It was starting to make a little sense, or at least it was making more sense than things had at the very beginning. He continued, on a different thought, “Okay, but what does that have to do with Rya, necessarily? I mean, I… I’m just trying to tie up these loose ends, Joel.”

Maybe the things that Joel were saying weren’t actually helping so much as they were just creating more loose ends, more questions, with not a single satisfying ending in sight. The mere notion created more knots in Phil’s stomach — at this rate, he was sure to be developing ulcers.

“Like I said before, it wasn’t the plan originally. I did build her to be your robot girlfriend. That wasn’t bullshit,” Joel said. “The thing is, when that failed, and the two of you continued to be miserable sad sacks, I tried to find some other purpose for her. In the background I had been working on the technology to make her human, but I… Well, while that was great for its own reasons, I was… I was going to kill her.”

Phil balked. “Wait, _what?!_ So you were the one behind the Cloaked Figure nonsense?! You were working with Cassidy?”

Joel waved his hands dismissively. “No, no. Nothing like that. I mean, jeez, did you break your legs jumping to that conclusion? That would be ridiculous.”

Phil rolled his eyes.

Joel continued, “And anyway, I certainly would’ve killed her off in a more humorous fashion. I mean, jeez! The genre we were working with… That just didn’t work. And the timing of it, the execution… What a mess, Phil. Come on, give me more credit than that. No, I didn’t work with Cassidy. I didn’t even know she was the Cloaked Figure at first, and frankly, I didn’t quite care to find out anyway. It wasn’t important. It was purely coincidental that Cassidy had hatched some harebrained scheme to get Rya killed off so that she could eliminate potential suitors of you, or whatever the hell. Who cares. The fact is, her death was necessary. As in, I would have killed her if Cassidy hadn’t.”

Phil was appalled for a multitude of reasons, but he couldn’t extract just one in particular to go off of, to start yelling about. His brain felt like it might implode under the weight of everything, which conjured up horrible memories of him quite literally exploding in the simulation.

“Rya didn’t really have humanity, you know,” Joel said. He didn’t sound like he were defending himself or justifying any actions he had taken over the past few years. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. And nobody really seemed to care about her anyway.”

“I disagree with that, you know I do,” Phil said. He exhaled deeply. “And… I know you cared about her too.”

Joel ceased his pacing and studied Phil intently for a moment. He, too, could recognize a deep weariness in him.

Phil said, “There’s a lot of things wrong with all of this. But I don’t think it matters to get into. I’m sure you’re already aware. I just… Just, you can’t do this. You can’t kill yourself.”

“But don’t you get it, Phil?” Joel said. “I already have.”

“Wh… You don’t mean…”

“At the end of Bonus Stage, yes. I wanted to kill myself. And I _did_.”

Joel turned his back to Phil, grabbed the gun again, just to feel the weight of it in his hands. Phil firmly placed his hands on Joel’s shoulders again, completely on edge.

“I need to tell you something, Phil,” Joel said quietly. “I don’t know that it’ll make you understand anything. But it’s important I say it regardless.”

The sincere agony in his voice made Phil weak at the knees. Seeing and hearing Joel as vulnerable as he had been, as he was, was gutting in ways Phil couldn’t even fully grasp. He whispered, “Wh… What is it, Joel?”

“When _you_ killed yourself, Phil… You know. _Back then._ I… I had no idea where…  the _hell_ … I was supposed to go from there. I had nothing.”

“What? What do you mean, Joel, that you didn’t know where you were supposed to go? Because I tried to end Bonus Stage? Is that what you mean?”

Joel said nothing.

“Oh, no,” Phil said, shaking his head. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No, no. Without me, you could have easily done the show. You didn’t need me. You didn’t _ever_ need me. And even if you didn’t want to make Bonus Stage anymore, I… You could’ve done something else. You still had the rest of your family.” Phil paused. He tilted his head, unsure. “Right? I mean… didn’t you? … Right?”

Joel then shook his head slowly. He turned around, still holding the gun in his hands. He didn’t seem to want to take his eyes off it, lest it disappear when he chose to let it out of his sight.

“No, you don’t understand,” Joel said. “I had nothing else. Without Kate, without _you_ , I mean… Without you, there wasn’t a show. C’mon. Everyone knows it was crap, Phil.”

“Wh… Oh, come on, Joel,” Phil pleaded. “We had some fans. Some episodes were okay. I’m not proud of a lot of it, but it happened, it’s what we did, I mean…”

“Phil, why do think I couldn’t even make it past half an episode without you?” Joel said, narrowing his eyes. There was something deeper bubbling up inside of him.

“I don’t really… I mean, I wasn’t there, so I—”

Suddenly, Joel was frantic. He spoke wildly, his voice rising in both pitch and volume, “Phil, why don’t you get it — Bonus Stage was all I had, it was the one thing I had managed to make decent, and it wasn’t even good, it was the bare minimum and nothing else, and so when you just bailed like that, without a second thought, and I wasn’t even able to set out and do what I meant to do, what the hell was I supposed to do?”

Phil opened his mouth to speak, but Joel didn’t even pause in his rambling to let him get a word in edgewise.

“Phil, you left, and I wanted to preserve what we had made, at the _very_ least, and maybe that’s the loophole that allowed us to live, I don’t know, or maybe Elly and June were able to save us through some other means, or maybe it was through some grace of God, if I wanna go by your sham religion—”

“ _Joel_!!”

Joel paused to laugh heartlessly at Phil’s interjection, and it helped him to cease his manic rambling. He inhaled sharply, and continued, much slower, albeit not very thoughtfully, “Well, you _know_ it doesn’t make any sense. Anyway, the point is, I wanted to preserve it. For posterity. For… something. I don’t know.

“And as for my damn family… without Kate, I mean I might as well have not even _had_ a family. And that’s one thing. I swore that I would figure out a way to keep people alive. That’s also why death was such a joke in Bonus Stage. I mean, sure, it ended up desensitizing us all to some degree. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. But imagining a world without you, where you were _actually_ gone, and couldn’t just respawn the next week… That was something else entirely…”

Phil mulled all this over, suddenly feeling very light-headed. He didn’t like where this was going; after all, the look in Joel’s eyes certainly did not bode well for the direction of this conversation, not that it was going in a very good place from the start. Then he started to smell the blood again, which made him feel queasy. He leaned forward and gripped the table, hoping he didn’t faint right there.

“It just doesn’t even make sense why we’re here in the first place,” Joel said.

Phil swallowed the pit in his throat. “I know. We should have died back there. At least… that’s what it seemed like.”

“It’s more than just that, Phil. It’s more than just… what _should_ have… happened,” Joel said, his hands now noticeably shaking.

“Okay, so what, so it didn’t become what you wanted,” Phil said. “That doesn’t mean it didn’t amount to anything. I mean, you’re being awfully harsh about the whole thing. Bonus Stage wasn’t even total garbage. And whether or not it was what was supposed to happen, we’re both here. I don’t know that it’s worth dwelling on.”

Joel groaned and threw his hands up in the air. “You say that now, but remember you’re the one who tried to mess things up, Phil. Remember that. No, no. You didn’t _try._ You _did_ screw things up. I don’t even think they got _un_ screwed, they just somehow got not _irreversibly_ horrible, _somehow_.”

Phil smacked his forehead. “What are you even talking about anymore?! I was sick of it, Joel! We _all_ were! Can’t you see that?! Not _one_ of us wanted to be there anymore! I couldn’t _take_ it anymore!! So what?! It’s over, and it doesn’t matter now! This is all in the past, and we all just want to move the hell on with our lives. I thought you knew this! But no, you go ahead and try and bring your dead sister back to life, you bring Rya back to life, you invite a murderer into our home, knowing that she’s a friggin’ murderer—”

“None of you _ever_ told me any of that,” Joel said coldly.

Phil gesticulated wildly, “B-but… But _why?!_ Can’t you see?! It wasn’t _obvious_? You can’t tell me you were _completely_ oblivious. Jesus, Joel, you aren’t _that_ stupid. You aren’t even a _little_ stupid. You’ve known from the start that you’ve had the upperhand, and when you lost control of the situation, you lost your damn mind!”

“This is real sweet coming from the guy who tried to mess with time travel inside a _fucking simulated world_ ,” he seethed. “Are you mad?! Like you said, we should be _fucking dead!_ Maybe you didn’t quite understand the ramifications of it, but could you not at least grasp that the things we felt in the simulation were things that affected our real life bodies? Neurological impulses? To the brain? _Phil_?”

Phil felt his legs trembling, but he fought to keep an apathetic face. These were all things he had heard thousands of times before and even thought to himself a million times more, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. He didn’t know what he had been thinking. He didn’t really have time to think, or even to process any of it. When he was dead, he was _dead_ , maybe, for a while. And he didn’t even have the chance to process the fact that Joel had killed himself — or tried — shortly after his own death. He hadn’t even realized that Kate had been a crucial part of it to some degree, that she was perhaps motivating Joel to be doing these things and feelings these things that Phil had absolutely no clue about.

“I really should just finish the job,” Joel said, his voice cracking slightly. He glanced at the gun again. “It’s probably the only thing I can make work, without ruining other people’s lives in the process.”

As soon as he moved his arm to point the gun at himself again, Phil smacked it clear out of his hands and shoved him. It clattered to the floor somewhere, though neither of them saw where, as Joel lost his balance almost immediately, taken off guard by Phil’s uncharacteristically impeccable reflexes, and he flailed for but one moment before he fell onto his back.

Phil gasped and bent to try and help him up, but Joel swiftly pulled him down, eliciting a startled yelp from him in response. Joel then rolled onto Phil and straddled him, which appalled Phil so much it effectively incapacitated him for the moment.

“Why can’t you just let me have this?” Joel scolded.

“Wh… What do you mean?” Phil said nervously. He was still in shock from the move that Joel had just pulled on him, so much so that he didn’t even try to push Joel off.

“Phil, I already explained this. I told you, it didn’t work. None of it worked. Bonus Stage didn’t work. Even killing myself because Bonus Stage didn’t work, _didn’t work_. I bring Rya back to life, and it’s caused nothing but trouble. It didn’t even _really_ work the way it was supposed to. I couldn’t bring Kate back to life. And this…” He had been speaking so clearly up until this moment, but then his voice broke. He stifled a sob. Phil’s heart cracked and sank deep into his chest simultaneously. “Phil, _where_ did I go wrong?”

Phil flinched as a teardrop hit his face. Again, he was reminded of that first night where Joel had crept into his bedroom in the middle of the night and woke him by sitting on him. But once again, he found that this time, he really didn’t have it in him to push Joel off, and if anything he just wanted to squeeze his friend into a tight embrace and not let go for a long time. What he did instead was run his fingers across Joel’s face, tracing the trail of his tear down to where it would’ve dripped down his chin if not for gravity.

This entire time Phil had been so hyperfocused on how Joel’s actions had been affecting everyone — fearing for his life and others, knowing that Joel couldn’t help but to meddle in every aspect of everyone’s lives — and although he did wonder about Joel, he didn’t consider very deeply just how everything was affecting _him._ He felt idiotic, as though he had missed something very big, but he knew it was more than just that; initially, he had assumed that he was missing pieces of a puzzle, or even assuming that Joel had done away with several of the pieces so that the group of them could scramble mindlessly trying to complete an impossible task. Now, however, he was seeing that was building a puzzle, sure, but he hadn’t taken the time to notice that he was building the wrong one.

Joel at last found it in himself to roll off of Phil, still crying silently, and they laid together side by side, staring at the ceiling. Phil sighed, a cement-sized weight seeming to leave his chest, although he wasn’t sure how much of it was actually due to Joel’s weight. He looked over at Joel.

“Joel, please don’t… Please don’t go do something stupid. I’m begging you,” Phil sighed.

“Phil… I don’t know what else to do.”

“Joel…” Phil’s voice was coming out strained again. “Please. You… You don’t need to do anything right now. I… You’ve done more than enough. And… We all really need to sleep. We can talk more later, maybe, after you’ve rested.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” he said flatly.

Phil shook his head, at last deciding to get up. The room was suddenly eerily quiet and way too bright for his tastes. He helped Joel to his feet as well, taking care not to think too much about the blood still covering parts of the floor and walls. He tried not to think of the smell again either.

“You really just need to rest,” Phil insisted.

The two of them floated out of his laboratory in a haze. Elly and June were no longer in the living room, and had instead fallen asleep in their respective rooms, perhaps dealing with the week’s events by allowing them to manifest themselves into unspeakable nightmares.

Phil guided Joel back to his room as though he didn’t even know where it was anymore, having spent the majority of his time over the past few weeks in his room filled with death, and all of the baggage that comes along with it.

Joel was still trembling slightly as Phil helped him get into bed. Phil pulled the sheets up to Joel’s shoulders and sat at the edge of his bed, ruminating on everything in an uncomfortable silence.

He couldn’t bring himself to leave.

* * *

They were going to work on rebuilding, though it was going to take a long time. There was so much to unravel in all of them, so much buried in their psyches that was going to be quite the undertaking to exhume.

They had taken Rya home that same day rather than waiting, after everyone had slept, knowing that the danger had passed. They all talked about everything, but it didn’t quite seem like enough, none of it ever seemed like enough.

None of them could ever be sorry enough.


End file.
